Lyra
by PuffPride
Summary: ABANDONED! BEING REWORKED IN NEW FIC - THE BLADE ITSELF! They were infamous. They were hated. They were envied. They were the bane of existence for some. They were salvation for others. They had been designed that way after all. They were the Black twins And you attack one, you'd best be prepared to face the other. RL/OC some SB/MM and JP/LE.
1. Chapter 1

**General Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is owned by by JK Rowling... If I believed in a god then it would have her face. All other characters, plot lines and situations I will gladly claim.**

 **STOP! PLEASE READ THIS If you're clicking onto this for the first time please go onto my profile and click on THE BLADE ITSELF. The Blade Itself is my rework fic that has replaced this one and that is the one that will be updated from now on.**

 **Thanks!**

* * *

' _I don't know if you've noticed Lily, but Sirius and Lyra are closer than your average pair of twins.'_

* * *

Sirius couldn't stand still, he rattled the door handle ferociously. Dread, cold and heavy like wet cement, tightened his stomach, squeezed his heart. A fear gripped him, such as he'd never felt before. If he stopped, even for a moment, that dread would harden, setting his innards in concrete, and he'd be stuck, helpless forever.

He took a step back from the door, the handle not budging in the slightest. Throwing his fists against it he screwed his eyes shut tight, trying to think of anything else instead of the horrific pictures that kept forming in his head. He hadn't heard anything since he'd awoken, lying bruised and bloodied on his bedroom floor ten minutes earlier.

The only thing he had heard was the door across the hall being slammed shut. It was this noise that had him jolt awake and pulling at the door handle in the first place. The affinity his parents had for using silencing charms on closed doors always made him frantic beyond comprehension. But this, this time it was different. Frantic didn't do what he was feeling justice. Try as desperately as he might, he couldn't keep the memories of what had led to this from resurfacing.

 _'Enough with your excuses! Despite your most ardent beliefs, I am_ not _oblivious to everything that goes on within my own house!'_

 _Sirius knew it was dangerous. There were a great many things he could do within this house that could put him in potential danger, but listening to his parents engage in what could only be described as an intense argument (his parents – along with all other polite pureblood families –_ never _argued, as Sirius had been reminded on multiple occasions), was even more reckless than usual, even for him._

 _And he_ had _been intending on turning around and retreating to his room – he had sat down to write a letter to James that morning, but he didn't know how to write about how desperate he was to get out of the house – especially seeing as he was supposed to have left for the Potters two days ago – without worrying his best friend. James was a good friend, but he did tend to worry to the point of recklessness. Chances were that he'd mount a full-scale rescue mission as soon as he received Sirius' letter – but that was before he'd caught on to what it was exactly that his parents were talking about._

 _That damned dinner._

 _It had been weeks since it happened. He'd had weeks to think about it, to try and decipher, to figure out exactly what had taken place over the last course of that meal. Weeks of endless thinking and he was still just as confused, just as angry as he had been when it had happened. Maybe his parents would finally let it slip, they might finally be able to explain just what it was that Madam Rosier was talking about that night._

 _'Orion, I have no possible idea what runs through the minds of everyone who comes into this house.' Walburga's biting voice was rising with every word said. 'Our eldest son should be proof enough of that!'_

 _Sirius gritted his teeth at this slight. There were more important things to focus on than the well-known hatred his parents had for him._

 _'It is not our eldest son that I was referring to … neither was Madam Rosier, that night, if my translation of the situation is to be relied upon.' Where Walburga's voice rose, Orion's voice was being drawn lower, like a bucket into the well of his formidable fury. 'Why is it that I always get the impression that everyone knows much more about my own blood than I?'_

 _Sirius heard Walburga scoff. 'You've never taken an active interest in her before. Why now?'_

 _Up till this moment Sirius had been merely curious, now his curiosity mixed with worry, water and oil starting to swirl in his chest._

 _'I am interested in the interests of others, I am simply attempting to uncover what the Rosier's find so interesting in something I have in the past dismissed.' There was a pregnant pause, Sirius wasn't sure if anyone on the other side of the door was breathing – he wasn't too sure_ he _was breathing. 'What interests you about her, Walburga?'_

 _'Other than the fact that she's my daughter?' Sirius was sure that Walburga had meant the question to be just as biting as her previous comments, but he could hear her waiver, even if it was the smallest possible amount._

 _'You really think I am a simpleton, don't you?' Orion asked, his voice full of venom. 'I have heard the rumours, ever since they were born I have heard them. I chose to ignore them thus far because I have reassured myself that my wife could never be that foolish. She knows better than that, I told myself when I caught them whispering. She would never associate with the people required to be able to carry out what they've said you did. You would not taint our bloodline, a bloodline that has remained pure and strong for so many centuries, on such an irrevocable level.'_

 _Sirius heard the squeal of a chair leg being dragged across the wooden floor boards of his father's study and it took all his strength not to jump at the sudden noise. He took a half step closer to the door so that his cheek was almost pressed flush against it._

 _'Perhaps I have been wrong.' Orion's voice was almost at a whisper now. 'You've always been an ambitious woman, Walburga. At times so focussed are you on your goal that it flirts with the point of brutality. I have always admired this about you. But,' a short yelp was suddenly stifled and Sirius' hand instinctively flew to the door handle, 'if I have discovered that you have used this ability to turn this family into a magnet for ridicule and scandal, if that girl should be anything other than a disappointment, just like her brother, then …'_

 _'Master Black should not be spying.'_

 _Sirius whirled around so fast he was momentarily dizzy. Kreacher stood not two meters from him, his wide eyes glowering up at him._

 _Sirius moved toward him, 'Kreacher, wait …'_

 _But he was too slow. Kreacher popped out of sight and the next second his scratchy voice was coming from the other side of the study door._

 _Sirius didn't have time to turn to run back to his room before the door opened. Orion Black, in all his towering, twisted rage, glaring daggers at his eldest son._

Sirius stood, head against his door, he could think about what happened next later. Right now, he had more pressing worries, much more pressing.

Looking at his bedroom door, he tried to focus his thoughts. He couldn't risk using magic to undo the lock Walburga had placed on it. He couldn't jeopardise his returning to Hogwarts, for both his and Lyra's sake. Suddenly his panting halted. Of course! How could he have forgotten! Running over to his trunk he tossed aside old books and clothes he hadn't bothered to give to Kreacher until he spotted a glint of silver. His heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time as he withdrew a small knife from the mess that was his trunk.

Running over to the door he stuck the knife in the key hole and twisted until it clicked and swung forward. With his wand in one hand and the knife in the other, Sirius crossed the narrow, dark hallway, not bothering to look if anyone was lurking in the shadows. Upon later recollection he would recall a shouting match being had from somewhere downstairs. His panic far outweighed his fear.

'Lyra!' He banged on the door. It didn't move an inch and there was nothing but silence on the other side. Sirius shoved the knife into the door's keyhole, rushing into the room as soon as it clicked open.

At first everything he saw as he entered the room seemed to mesh into one great blurred scene. A girl, lying on the brown floor, white skin, black hair and red… so much red. There was red on the floor around her, on her hands, soaking through the front of her shirt. But where there was a river of red, there was also far too much white when Sirius looked into her face.

Lyra's face was white, sleeked with sweat and unmoving, even when Sirius slapped her cheek. 'Lyra! Lyra, can you hear me?' She didn't even so much as flinch. He looked around the room quickly, some of Lyra's books lay open on her desk, her eagle feathered quill stood in an ink pot next to some parchment on her night stand, but most of her belongings and clothes were still in her trunk that was tucked in the far corner of the room.

'That's it,' Sirius said quickly to no one in particular, 'we're leaving.' He flicked his wand and looked back to Lyra as her belongings flew into her trunk. Sirius scanned his sister and stopped when he reached her stomach, where the blood was heaviest. He grabbed a scarf off the bed and tied it tightly around her middle. When he was satisfied he looked up, Lyra's trunk was closed, her room considerably more bare. Sirius flicked his wand again and the trunk shrunk and flew towards him. He caught it, stuffed it in his pocket and lifted his sister off the bloodied floor.

He was halfway to his own door when a figure emerged from a doorway further down the hall.

'Sirius! What's going,' Regulus stopped at the sight of his sister, his eyes widening, colour draining from his face. 'What's happened?'

Sirius ignored him as he entered his own room, he placed Lyra down on his bed as gently as he could before flicking his wand again, this time _his_ belongings were flying around the room, placing themselves haphazardly into his trunk.

'She's hurt!' Regulus came to hover at Sirius' bedside, he looked around the room as one of Sirius' books hit his leg on its way to the trunk. 'What are you doing?'

'What does it look like?' Sirius growled as he went over to his desk, searching through it's drawers. After he'd extracted a small square mirror from the desk's middle drawer, he turned back into Regulus' ramblings which had remained a constant splutter.

'But – But you can't!'

The trunk in the corner clicked shut, shrank and flew into Sirius' open hand. He hastily shoved it into his pocket and went to his bedside but Regulus' voice was growing firmer and louder.

'Sirius you can't!' Regulus went to stand in front of his brother but Sirius grabbed onto the younger boy's shirt collar, pulling him in so that he could see the panic clearly in his eyes.

'What can't I do Regulus!?' Sirius growled, angry red sparks spat from his wand's tip. 'Because what I can't do any longer is to stay in this – this _house_ and watch her get hurt anymore.' He pushed him away so roughly that Regulus' back hit the wall. Sirius turned and lifted his sister off the bed. 'We're leaving,' he grumbled as he made his way back into the hall.

The walk down to the ground floor was the longest two minutes of Sirius' life. He tried to keep to the shadows as much as he could and paused every time he heard so much as what could have been a creak of a floor board.

The shouting match was still being fought. He could only distinguish phrases, most of them in his mother's high-pitched shrill shrieking voice.

 _'Do you realise what you've done?!'_

 _'Not meant for her!'_

And to what would have been his surprise, had it not been for the shock he immersed in, Sirius heard his father shout back.

 _'Not even that strong!'_

 _'Unnatural!'_

Sirius started to breathe a little easier when he entered the entrance hallway and caught sight of the front door. The appearance of the thick wooden door was enough to drown out all other sights and sounds.

He was mere feet from it when a flash of purple light soared past his head catching the lantern hanging on the wall beside the door, it exploded.

Sirius ducked as another stream of light narrowly missed him.

'How dare you try to sneak out of this house!' Walburga Black's shrieking voice sounded slightly demonic as she hurled curse after curse at her son.

His back now to the door, Sirius had no choice but to avoid his mother's onslaught, both of his hands busy keeping Lyra close to him, his wand stuffed in his back pocket. He tried to shield his sisters face to his chest as a picture frame blew up next to them, he felt blood start to ooze from his already cut lip.

'How dare you try to smuggle _her_ out with you!' Walburga's advances were coming dangerously fast now. 'Orion, he's taking her!'

Sirius, frantically ducking and swerving, felt his heart stumble when his back hit the door, the handle digging into his skin. His mind whirled at what he was about to do, but with his mother's infuriated cries in front of him, her curses flying around him and his freedom now firmly behind him, he had no other choice. Walburga was raising her wand, getting ready for another attack, when Sirius quickly turned around and fumbled with the door handle.

The air that hit his face almost made him let out a victory cry. He only caught a glimpse of the muggle world outside the Black family house before he let out a strangled cry, his legs almost gave way as he felt a ripping sort of pain jut along the back of his right leg.

The last things he recognised before he was sucked into the tunnel of apparition was his mother's voice, disinheriting her eldest children, the pain in his leg that had him close to tears and the small, fragile, white and red girl in his arms, who had the tears that had threatened to spill from before come streaming down his cheeks.

And then there was nothing … nothing but the sound of a family of birds in a close by tree and children laughing down the street. As soon as his head stopped spinning so violently he faced the modest two-storey house.

'James! James! James!' He screamed and screamed and screamed until the front door opened. James and Remus stood on the threshold.

They were by his side in a heartbeat, Remus taking Lyra as Sirius fell. James grabbed Sirius by the arms before he had a chance to hit the cement. The Black twins were ushered inside and had barely made it two feet into the house before Mr and Mrs Potter were upon them.

Dorea and Charlus were quickly to slip into their professional mindsets, they'd deal with the horror they both felt later. They ushered the teenagers into the lounge room, Sirius flung himself into the first chair he stumbled upon where Dorea quickly set to work stitching up his leg which was drenched in thick, dark blood.

Sirius fidgeted, trying to get a better look at Lyra, who Remus had placed on the lounge, Charlus hovering over her, removing the scarf from her middle and almost balking when fresh blood spilled out over her already soaked shirt.

'Hold still, dear,' Dorea told Sirius firmly, holding Sirius to the chair with surprising strength.

Sirius would've sat still like she asked if Charlus hadn't let out a strangled growl. 'That insidious bastard!'

Sirius went to stand but yelped, his leg instantly collapsing under the pressure. Charlus had exposed Lyra's stomach, it was riddled with long, thick, impossibly deep cuts.

'What's wrong?' Dorea's voice was no longer firm but urgent.

'He's used Dark Magic on his own daughter!'

Sirius caught James' eye. He had never seen his friend looking so scared, so unsure. He stood beside his kneeling mother looking from her, to Sirius, to his father, and back again. Remus however was fixed on one thing and one thing only. His grip on Lyra's hand visibly tightened as the young girl suddenly stirred and started screaming. A strangled cry that pierced Sirius like a twisting knife through the heart.

'Dorea! I need your help!' Charlus' yelled over Lyra's screaming. 'He's tricked it.' He told his wife as she appeared by his side, leaving Sirius stranded in the armchair. 'Every time I try to seal the wound it works itself deeper.'

It took hours, hours for Dorea and Charlus, two fully grown wizards, an ex-Auror and an ex- Healer, to stifle the bleeding coming from the wounds across Lyra's stomach. It was a crude patch up job but the Dark Magic used by an even darker man was not easily undone.

After every passing minute, Sirius felt the weight in his chest grow and grow and he was certain that if he just got to Lyra than it would go away. If he just got to his sister than this nightmare would be over, he'd wake up panting in his bed, slick with sweat, a pounding headache the only reminder of this nightmare.

There were a number of things Sirius took careful note of in that unearthly long afternoon.

He noticed every beat of his heart, how each one was like a warning that the next one would never come.

He watched every breath his sister took, fearing the same warning was true for her. He flinched through every one of her long screams and registered his long sigh after each one had ended.

He kept an eye on James who looked ready to faint at the sight of his bruised and bloodied and tortured friends, but whose eyes shone with undisguised admiration as he watched his parents work in complete harmony.

And Sirius watched on as Remus gripped Lyra's hand, muttering for her to hold on, to hold on just a little longer. Remus never looked at anyone else throughout the whole ordeal.

Later, when the candles of the house had been dimmed or doused, when James and Remus had retreated to the formers room, when Mr and Mrs Potter spoke in hushed voices behind closed doors, when Lyra's breathing had finally returned to deep, even inhales and exhales as she rested in a single bed in one of the Potter's guest bedrooms and when Sirius lay in the bed adjacent to hers, watching her chest rise and fall, he finally let out a long shuddering breath and cried himself into the silent black that he knew was only a brief respite from the harrowing future he and his sister were now destined to live.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I realise that it was clarified that James' parents were actually Fleamont and Euphoria and they weren't a Healer or an Auror but for the sake of this story I've decided to change it a bit (that and the fact that I like the names Dorea and Charlus a lot more).**

 **Please tell me what you think of Remus, kinda what you pictured, or not really?**

 **Thanks guys!**

 ***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

* * *

 _He didn't think they'd go so far. They told him they wouldn't. He'd believed them._

* * *

He should have seen it coming. He knew it was only a matter of time before _something_ happened. But this? Had he really readied himself for the possibility of so much pain?

As the rest of the house lay dark and quiet, Remus could only blink up at the roof. He'd uttered his last words of the day an eternity ago. He had said them to James, who, from the soft yet uneven breathing coming from the other side of the room, seemed to be just as awake as Remus was now.

Their last words to each other hadn't been ones of well wishes, of wishing pleasant dreams. No, the days of such sentiments were well and truly behind them now.

No matter how much he thought he'd prepared himself for all the realities of life, nothing could have prepared him for hearing the desperate, harrowing way in which Sirius had called for James that afternoon. And nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared him for the sight that met them at the end of those cries.

Blood, so much blood. Remus was used to blood, from him and occasionally from the boys. But not this much, not the amount that had painted Sirius' left leg that oozed in thick coats from the jagged gash that tore down its length. But even that amount was nothing compared to the amount coming from what Sirius held in his shaking arms.

Lyra.

Remus was sure that that was the only thing repeating itself over and over in his mind, like a mantra.

Lyra, Lyra, Lyra.

The next hours were a blur. A slow-motion tumult of painful cries, hurried voices, curses, shouts and tears.

There seemed to be some time missing. One second he had been taking Lyra from Sirius as the boy collapsed against James' shoulder, the next thing he was carrying her again, this time guided by Mrs Potter as Remus brought Lyra to the guest bedroom.

She was too quiet, too still. Remus longed for her to say something, do anything. Because then he'd know she was alright, he'd know that he was worrying for no reason, as per usual she would say. But she just lay there, unmoving on the bed and he didn't realise how long he'd been standing over her, watching her.

Lyra, Lyra, Lyra.

Some time ago Mrs Potter had conjured up a fresh set of clothes had gently taken off Lyra's blood soaked clothes and exchanged them for clean, fresh pyjamas. She, with the help of Remus, had tucked Lyra into the bed, lifting the covers around the girl, placing her scarred arms on top. As she passed, Dorea placed a consoling hand on Remus' arm. Of it would have been if he'd noticed it.

Lyra, Lyra –

'For Merlin's sake, Sirius!'

Sirius?

It was like being dowsed in a bucket of iced water, it seeped quickly through Remus' skin and strangled his insides.

His feet took him thoughtlessly back into the Potter's sitting room.

Sirius, pale and sweaty, sat in the armchair he had fallen into when he'd arrived, but it was clear that he no longer had any wishes in remaining there.

James was holding onto Sirius, he pushed down on one shoulder whilst his father pushed down on the other. Remus could do nothing other than watch.

'It's okay, Sirius! Lyra's okay!' James said through clenched teeth, all his remaining energy going in to keeping Sirius sitting.

'Like hell she is!' Sirius' voice was terrifying, it was hoarse and hollow but it came out in a fierce growl that did nothing to melt the ice pounding through Remus' veins.

'Hold him still, Charlus!'

Remus hadn't even noticed Mrs Potter kneeling on the floor by Sirius' feet. She held her wand out steady, ducking and weaving, obviously trying to get to the gaping wound running the length of the back of Sirius' leg. But Sirius was outright thrashing now.

Remus jumped when a flash of red light hit Sirius squarely in the chest and the boy slumped, unconscious, his head lolling to one side.

James gave Remus a terrified look, shiny with unshed tears, whilst Dorea huffed a thank you to her husband. Remus hadn't even noticed that Charlus had moved away from Sirius in order to cast the stunning spell.

Dorea and Charlus then set about fixing Sirius' wounds. The leg wound took top priority but there was plenty else to occupy them, the least of all was a nasty purple bruise on the side of his head.

James had let go of Sirius as soon as he saw the stunner coming. Looking dazed and not really focussing on anything or anyone in particular, James left the room in silence. Remus followed behind him into Charlus' study.

Without talking, James found an old and battered looking tome on the bookshelf. He turned it on it's side gently. The book grew until it took up the entire corner of the shelf on which it sat, where the title used to be, a handle had grown. James took hold and lifted the spine of the book, revealing a secret compartment. He extracted a bottle of Firewhiskey from it's depths and walked to his father's desk, filling the tumblers Remus had found in the bottom shelf half way. Taking one for himself, James pushed the other one towards Remus before falling back into one of the high-backed chairs.

At some point in the afternoon the two boys were joined by James' parents. They poured themselves each a glass before lowering themselves into the two remaining chairs around the table. Silence fell over the room like a thick fog.

'Did either of you know?'

Mr Potter's voice came to Remus as if he were underwater, it was muffled, sluggish.

Looking across to James, Remus wasn't sure the bespectacled boy was capable of speaking, he wasn't sure he was either. All the muscles within him seemed to have vanished. The mere thought of talking was exhausting.

'Not this much,' James croaked, swallowing thickly before taking another sip of his Firewhiskey.

Remus nodded in agreement. Between Sirius' sarcasm and Lyra's shrugs, it was true that none of them had realised that their home life had become this bad.

Charlus rubbed his face and Remus fleetingly wondered how long the man had had so much grey in his hair, and so many wrinkles about his face.

Remus desperately wanted to ask the question that had slowly become his new mantra. Still he found he couldn't open his mouth long enough to do anything other than take another sip from his glass. And he didn't know whether to tense or to relax when James voiced that mantra.

'How bad …' He trailed off, unable or unwilling to finish.

Now it was Dorea's turn to shuffle in her seat. She gave a short, soft sigh before leaning forwards, looking firmly between the two boys. 'I'm not going to lie to either of you.'

Remus' chest squeezed painfully.

'If the last few hours have proved anything to me it's that both of you can handle the reality of this.' She turned to look out into the hall before addressing them again. 'They're both stable. I expect Sirius to regain consciousness later this evening and when that happens he'll need your support.' She was clear, firm but heartfelt and understanding, the perfect blend for a Healer dealing with a sensitive case. 'Because I don't expect that Lyra will be waking up anytime soon.'

Lyra, Lyra, Lyra.

The words, that tragic melody, had returned. And it was deafening.

As Dorea turned her Healer's gaze on him, she saw something in his face that had that detached, clam mask melt slightly.

'She _will_ wake up, Remus,' she assured him. 'But she's still critical and she's going to have a pretty tough recovery.' Her throat bobbed, the only sign of difficulty on her end. 'Dark Magic isn't exactly designed for quick healing.'

XXXXXX

It was a while before the group silently split up and left the study, leaving the nearly empty bottle of Firewhiskey sitting forgotten on the desk.

Mr Potter left the house under the pretext of doing some work in the shed. Remus spotted him soon afterwards waving his wand in a rather complicated pattern around the perimeter of the house. No doubt reinforcing the estate's protection. For some reason this did not make Remus feel any better, in fact, it may have made him feel worse.

James retreated to his room upstairs, Remus thought about following him but he had the sneaking suspicion that James would be writing Lily. The two had become rather avid pen pals over the holidays.

Mrs Potter went straight to the guest bedroom. Initially, Remus had made to follow her. He made it a meter from the door when he stopped abruptly. The memory of the blood-soaked twins held his legs still. Steadying his breathing, he willed the vision to vanish.

Sirius was awake when Remus entered the room. The raven haired boy had rolled onto his side and was watching, unblinking, as Mrs Potter checked over Lyra. Mrs Potter took a jar from the bedside table, unscrewed it and applied a thick, pink paste to a cut running along Lyra's right arm and to a few cuts that littered her face.

Those cuts on her pale skin seemed to taunt him, they screamed at him. He turned to look at Sirius instead.

He doubted his friend even realised Mrs Potter was in the room let alone recognising Remus' presence. From the looks of it, Sirius might have been in a trance, he may even have been in shock from the way he was staring. That was until a single tear leaked from Sirius' eye and trailed down his cheek.

Remus turned away from him too. But suddenly, there was nowhere else to look.

XX

The last thing that ran through Remus' head before sleep finally took him was that this may have been the longest day of his life.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

'What do you mean "they left"?'

Regulus tried as hard as he could to meet the hard stare of Lucius Malfoy, which proved a difficult thing despite the older man's face being so close to his. A small trembling part of him was regretting ever coming to Malfoy Manor in the first place. But it was a very small part and the part of him that felt duty-bound to report what had just happened had easily overpowered it.

'My mother tried to stop him, but,'

'And what were you doing during all this?' Malfoy glared at him from across the table, his hands still pressed hard into the polished wood of the table.

'I tried to stop him as well!' Regulus tried again, starting to get frustrated by Malfoy's dismissiveness. He was all too aware however of the lack of conviction in his own voice. He had tried to stop Sirius, when he had been in his bedroom, watching his brother prepare to leave and to take Lyra with him. Regulus had followed Sirius down the hall, after he had gathered his wits, but he still remembered how he'd frozen half way down the steps as he watched his mother unleash hell on her own son.

'I don't give a damn about your pathetic excuse of a brother, Black!' Lucius growled at him. 'And neither will the Dark Lord. You should've stopped him from taking _her_!'

'He never would have left her there!' Regulus' calm broke, finally. He felt this whole conversation was a pointless waste of time. He couldn't think of any situation in which Sirius would've left the house and left Lyra behind. The faster Malfoy accepted that fact the better it would be for the both of them. 'What does she have to do with anything anyway?'

Lucius held his stern gaze for another moment before sighing, leaning away and slumping back down in his chair. He ran a hand over his pale, pointed face, it came to rest over his eyes.

'Where are they now?'

Regulus thought it best not to provoke him further, he'd try and rehash that particular line of questioning later. 'My guess would be the Potters. But their house is one of the most protected dwellings in Britain, trying to penetrate it would be pointless.'

Lucius got up and strode over to the side table, he poured himself a honey coloured drink. 'What in Merlin's name were your parents thinking, Regulus.' He put the stopper back in the crystal decanter and returned to the table. A wide-eyed Regulus watched him cross the room.

'What will _he_ do to them?'

'I'm not sure,' Lucius took a sip. 'If they were within arm's reach, I have no doubt that he would punish them on the spot.' Seeing the relief that overcame Regulus, Lucius said, louder this time, 'But that does not mean that he won't seek them out and punish them later, you should be thankful that your families house is well hidden. The fact that you have confided in me your desire to take the mark soon may just be enough to save you from punishment, but you will have to prove yourself, your worth to the Dark Lord and his cause.' Regulus was just about to release the breath he had been holding until Lucius spoke again, softer this time, as if he was speaking to himself. 'We'll just have to wait until they return to Hogwarts.'

Regulus tried to keep his breathing steady as he tried again. 'Why her?'

Lucius considered him for a moment. 'You're right,' Regulus furrowed his brow but Lucius continued, not noticing. 'Apart from being sorted into Gryffindor as well, she didn't even come close to being as noteworthy as your unfortunate brother.' He paused again. 'Let's just say that the Dark Lord has come across some information regarding her and is most eager in having it confirmed.'

Regulus didn't need any more explanation. He knew exactly what kind of information the Dark Lord might have stumbled upon regarding his siblings. But they were rumours. They were nothing but unsubstantiated gossip spread by jealous pureblood housewives and then perpetuated in order to cover up disappointments. The Dark Lord couldn't possibly believe any of them, surely. If he did though, that meant that his sister might be in a terrible amount of danger, as well as his mother.

'And you might have a role play in that, Regulus,' Lucius pointed a finger to him, pulling Regulus out of his disbelieving stupor. 'The Dark Lord is not often denied what he desires, and when he is, he doesn't stop until he gets it.'


	3. Chapter 3

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **Please let me know if you like it and if you'd like to see any character's POV that I haven't touched on yet (other than Lyra, her time will come ...)**

 **Thanks guys!**

* * *

 _Perhaps it would be best to have it looked into. Maybe something could be done. Maybe Lyra could get help._

* * *

'You angry?'

James' expression was annoyingly impassive, but Sirius was too tired to get angry or frustrated, in fact the energy he'd have to muster up to simply get irked wouldn't be worth the effort. Having this conversation was barely worth the effort. Actually, if Sirius were being honest with himself, he hadn't found much that was worth the effort the last two days.

He was drained in every sense of the world. It was as if he'd spent too long out in the cold. The tips of his fingers were permanently numb and his eyelids were so heavy that every blink was a threat of slipping into a deep sleep.

The fact that she hadn't moved in two days wasn't helping matters.

Sirius had refused to move beyond the door to the room where Lyra was being kept. He couldn't leave her, not whilst she was like this.

He'd told Mrs Potter as much when the suggestion of his moving into James' room was made. His objection grew after he was advised that he'd have to stay in bed once it was set up in James' room. If it was the option of lying in bed in a room by himself or one where he could watch over her, he'd choose the latter.

Sirius assumed that Mrs Potter hadn't pushed the matter because she was of the belief that he was merely playing the role of the concerned brother. And he _was_ concerned, of course he was, his concern was a painful ever-present throb lodged in his chest. But he didn't feel it completely necessary to tell her that the real reason he preferred to stay with Lyra was because he didn't know what state she'd be in when she finally regained consciousness.

This scared him too much to think about.

No, it was best if he stayed close by, it was best if he was the first one she saw, and the first one who saw her.

He looked away from James – who continued to stand there, frowning down at him – looked across the room and once again began to catalogue the progress of her various wounds.

Finally, James sighed and sat down next to him. Even before he began talking, Sirius knew what he was going to say for they'd had this conversation, or variations of it, several times already.

'No, you know I'm not, Padfoot. We were just worried that's all. You were supposed to have arrived days ago.'

Indeed, that had been the plan, Remus and Sirius would make their way to James' and Peter – what with he and his mother visiting relatives abroad – would join them towards the end of the holidays.

Except Sirius had never shown, because he had been at home, trying to stop his parents from killing her, from killing him.

His skin flushed with itchy heat and he suppressed a growl.

'I know,' Sirius said as calmly as he could.

From his peripheral, he could see James chewing his bottom lip. After a few slightly tense moments, the bespectacled boy sighed again.

'Well you're here now, that's all that matters really. Right?' He clapped Sirius on the shoulder and stood up. 'I'm going to see where Moony's got to, wanna come?'

Sirius had to dig deep to be able to shake his head. 'Go ahead.'

James appeared to accept defeat relatively quickly this time and left the room.

Now that the only source of distraction had left, there was nothing to keep the shards of memory at bay.

Horrified screams and pleads polluted the now still and silent air of the Potter's guest bedroom. They grew steadily louder, closer, thicker, ringing painfully around his head. The sound of his own name being called out in such panic and fear wrapped itself around his throat and squeezed, squeezed until he could no longer sit still.

Standing suddenly, blinking rapidly, he limped from the room, leaving the silence behind him.

There was no point in re-living it. They had escaped that place, finally, he wouldn't allow his mind to remain trapped there as well. All of it was over. Or maybe it wasn't, maybe this was just a brief break in the storm clouds, a fleeting respite where he could take a few deep breaths before he'd be struggling for air once more. A short time when he could feel relief.

Which he would have been happy to revel in, except for the one thing that had red-hot anger coursing like lava into his throat every time he looked across the room and saw her lying there. It was in these moments – that, more often than not, occurred when Mrs Potter would come to check on Lyra's progress – that had him questioning just what his first words to her would be.

'That's not what I meant Dorea!'

Sirius faltered. Looking around, he was outside the Potter's library. Unusually, the door was closed. Normally it would be kept open, as was the case with most of the doors in this house. Since his arrival, however, Sirius had noticed the increased numbers of shut doors.

'But there's only so much we can do before our hands become tied.'

'Can't you at least conduct a raid on that house?'

Sirius was fairly confident he knew who's house the Potters were talking about. He supposed he should feel somewhat optimistic, what with being in the house of the old head of the Auror department and all, but the truth, the reality of the situation, board down on him like a pressing weight on his chest.

And he knew he shouldn't have been listening in on a private conversation like a sneak in the dark, again, but he just didn't have the energy to move on. He'd never be able to decide whether it was curiosity that kept him there or exhaustion that kept him from leaving. None of that mattered, however, for when the pressing weight lessened, he found that the voices on the other side of the door had eased too, serving a shift in topic.

'Well, Sirius' leg is still on the mend.'

Sirius' attention snagged on the sound of his name.

'I'd prefer it if he stayed in bed and didn't use it for a while but –'

'But we both know how useless it would be to expect that,' Mr Potter finished, a hint of a smile in his voice. 'Besides it'd be good for him to get out of that room for a bit, it'll help get him thinking about other things.'

Sirius scowled, he could feel that 'other thing', the one Mr Potter was trying not to mention, growing in the back of his mind.

'Well, I know James has been trying to help, but he's also trying to do the same for Remus.'

 _Ah yes, James the saint_ , Sirius relented a humourless smirk.

'How's she doing?' There was nothing amusing in Mr Potter's voice now.

Sirius heard a short huff before Mrs Potter reported, 'I can't understand it. She is healing faster than anyone I've ever seen. I mean that cut on her arm is proof of it!'

'But you've been applying that salve you made especially for her wounds twice a day –'

'I should be applying it much more regularly than that, and I should be using much more of it as well!'

'So what do you make of it?'

There was a brief pause. Sirius closed the half-step that remained between himself and the library door. _She can't know. It's not possible._ Sirius held his breath.

'I can't be sure,' she said. 'I suppose youth could be a factor, or maybe the original wound wasn't as bad as we thought?' Her voice had dwindled into uncertainty and Sirius gritted his teeth in agreement. Both of her arguments could very easily be translated into a simple 'I don't know.'

Sirius could feel his teeth grinding together, scraping against each other. It would have been painful if he had been paying attention to it. He'd noticed her scars as well, but he was used to her quick healing and he'd been far too tired to notice the perplexed looks Mrs Potter had been giving them.

Should he try and come up with a cover story? He knew he was a decent liar but that would require some pretty creative thinking. And would it be worth it? James' parents weren't simpletons after all, chances are they'd see through him after the first sentence. But what other options did that leave him with? He could tell them the truth, in turn they would tell Dumbledore and then Lyra would most likely kill her brother the first chance she got. Sirius suppressed a shudder.

'The Cruciatus?'

Sirius stopped again. He had been about to turn around, surely someone would be walking this way soon and this wasn't the best look. He'd stay for a few seconds more.

'I hate to think of it but she and Sirius both were severely dehydrated. Dehydration is one of the main side effects of the Cruciatus. I can't rule it out.'

Sirius' head was pounding suddenly and he was walking back towards the guest bedroom before he realised what he was doing.

He'd got to the foot of his bed before he stopped. Turning to face his unconscious sister, he could barely keep the sneer off his face.

'You're an idiot, you know that?' He hissed across the room.

XXXXXXXXX

'Sirius, please, we need to know.'

They were sitting at the small dining table in the small, sun-lit kitchen. On one side sat Mr and Mrs Potter, Mr Potter with his arms folded loosely across his chest, Mrs Potter's hands rested on the table top. She kept moving to lean forward, but would always pull up, drawing in her shoulders instead, as if resisting the urge to reach across the table to take Sirius' hands.

Sirius reckoned she would've too, which is partly why he kept his hands firmly stuffed in the pockets of the jumper he'd borrowed from James.

Sirius looked down at the wooden table, not really seeing it. Half his mid still hadn't left the Potter's guest bedroom, the other half was contemplating what answering Mrs Potter's question would mean.

It would mean that those people he once called 'family' would finally know justice. It would mean that he and Lyra would become more of a target than they were already likely to become, than they already were. And it would mean telling the two people he looked up to more than anyone else how much of a coward he really was.

'Sirius,' Mr Potter's voice was low, quiet and more serious than it had ever been, including the ordeal of a few nights previous, 'in order to help both you and Lyra, medically, we need to know what we're dealing with.'

Sirius' eyes shot up to meet the older man's. _In order to help Lyra_. Lyra, whose condition was still critical, Lyra, who still hadn't regained consciousness, Lyra, who had been through so much. Yes, for Lyra he could admit to his cowardice, for Lyra, he would do anything.

'Yes, they used it.'

The Potter's withdrew slightly, shock momentarily making their eyes widen before they narrowed once more.

'How many times?'

Sirius swallowed, thankful that James and Remus had left the room when the conversation had turned tense. 'Twice on me, once that I know of on Lyra.'

'That you know of?'

Sirius couldn't hold onto Mrs Potter's stare, he didn't want to see the shame that was about to fill them.

'The one time they used it against her in my presence, they looked nervous after, it didn't last long, it was like they didn't realise I was there, when they did they stopped right away.' Sirius swallowed the tightness in his throat. 'They had a habit of doing things behind closed doors. I never tried to think about what they did to her behind hers. I didn't want to know. I hoped that if I didn't assume the worst then it wouldn't come true.'

The Potter's jumped when Sirius' fist slammed down on the table.

'I should've done something!' There it was, if he was going to admit to his cowardice he might as well tell them the true extent of it. 'I didn't _do_ anything! I sat in my room, thinking about the next stupid prank I'd help pull with James.' From somewhere far away Sirius felt warmth coat his cheeks, and an arm that had come to wrap around his shoulders, squeezing him close to them, making his ragged breathing soften slightly. 'Afterwards,' Sirius said softly, 'I'd go into her room, I'd pretend she was sleeping, but I knew, I always knew.'

'Sirius, now you listen to me,' came Mrs Potter's voice from close next to him, 'the only thing that matters now is that you're safe, both of you. No one blames you for anything.' Sirius shook his head. 'We're proud of you,' came her reply.

After what could have been minutes or hours Sirius pulled away from Mrs Potter's embrace, refusing to meet the gaze of either of them.

'Now, why don't you go back to the room,' Mrs Potter said. 'I'll be in in a minute to check on Lyra.'

Sirius made his way numbly out of the kitchen and down the hallway. As he grew closer to the guest bedroom he heard voices that grew louder and louder with each passing step.

'What are we going to do!?'

Even without seeing him Sirius could tell that James was pacing furiously. And before he even heard Remus answer, Sirius pictured him, sitting on the edge of the bed Sirius had been occupying, looking calmly up as James paced in front of him, before dropping his gaze to the girl lying in the bed opposite.

'There's not much we _can_ do, James,' came Remus' sigh. Sirius had reached the door but stayed outside and out of sight. Suddenly the thought of facing them, of having to talk again, made him utterly exhausted. So instead he leaned his head up against the wall next to the door frame and listened in on the two boys. 'This isn't like learning how to become animagi.'

'Well if you think I'm just going to sit here and do nothing then you've got another thing coming, my friend.'

'And just what do you propose?'

James let out a frustrated sigh. 'I don't know, Moony! Maybe we can get Dad to get the Auror's to investigate them or something, conduct a raid on that god-awful place.'

'He could try but I doubt it would do any good.' Sirius shook his head softly, he hated it when Remus was right. 'The Blacks are a very influential family, James, they'd have plenty of connections at the Ministry that would surely protect them from that kind of thing.'

'You're not helping, Remus,' James growled.

'Sorry,' came Remus' mumble. Then silence fell over the room and slinked out into the hall until it gripped Sirius around the middle, he couldn't stand it so, pushing himself off the wall, he strode into the room.

Remus looked up immediately and found Sirius as soon as he stepped over the threshold. James froze, simply standing in front of Sirius for a few seconds, eyes wide and searching and then, in two great strides, James crossed the room and enveloped Sirius in a hug. Sirius gripped onto the boy fiercely, blinking back the tears that had suddenly clouded his eyes.

Without saying a word, Sirius withdrew from James and went to sit on the side of Lyra's bed. She was so still, her arms on either side of her. Sirius reached and held one of her hands in his own.

'Have you thought about what you're going to do?' Remus said softly.

'What are you talking about, Moony?' Suddenly James's voice was jovial, upbeat. 'They'll stay here of course!'

Sirius looked up at James, whose grin barely reached his eyes. 'You've got to be joking?'

'Of course I'm not joking, Padfoot.' James looked slightly more serious as he went on. 'Look, my parents are always offering for you and Lyra to come over during the holidays, they love you more than they love me,' Sirius scoffed at this, for anyone to love James more than his parents did was impossible. 'And I guarantee you that they've already talked about it.' Sirius shook his head, looking back to his sister, he almost missed the fact that he was now grinning as well.

XXXXXX

Something had woken him up, slowly, so slowly in fact that he could no longer tell if he was dreaming or not. The flickering flame of his bedside table's lamp answered his question. That was what had woken him, the flickering had worked itself through his closed lids and into his dreams until it had forced him to awaken.

He sat bolt upright when the flame suddenly flickered and went out. Sirius checked the window in the moonlight and saw that it was shut. He looked again at the lamp and reached out to it. He was a fingernails length away from it when it burst in to life again. It almost broke through the glass.

And then suddenly the window opened, then shut, it groaned in an unfelt howling wind as the light continued to flicker violently. Sirius leapt from his bed, rushing to the window, he went to shut it when it suddenly shook in great waves of tremors in it's frame.

Lyra's pained moans cut through Sirius' confusion. He threw himself down at her bedside and gripped her hands tightly. She started to toss, her breathing shallow as she began to shout out. As she shouted a wind began to howl louder around Sirius' ears.

'Lyra!' He called out to her, his voice barely heard over the wind. 'Lyra wake up! Lyra!'

And then there was silence, the wind stopped, the window slammed shut and the flame was snuffed, leaving them in nothing but cold moonlight. But through it Sirius could see everything, most of all he could see Lyra's silver eyes staring up at him.


	4. Chapter 4

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **Things are starting to get a little more serious now (excuse the pun). Love to know whatever guesses you guys may have about the story so far :)**

 **Hope you like it…**

* * *

 _'Pity, I get the scabbard but not the blade, how disappointing.'_

* * *

'Sirius?' She moaned, and just like that, her eyelids dropped. Sirius was afraid she'd passed out again until she shifted, opening her eyes, much more slowly this time. Her half-opened eyes flickered over the room that was bathed in blue moonlight, the space between her eyebrows pulling together as she did so. 'Where are we?' Her voice was so soft, so weak, so panicked.

Sirius put a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to get her to stay still. 'We're at the Potters, with James,' he added, sensing her confusion.

She stared at him. He actually felt a pulse of pain when he noticed that the ring of silver encasing her irises, that was normally strangely bright and positively swimming, were now so incredibly dull that it had all but disappeared. Sirius had to grab her hand when it rose, reaching for his face that was still sporting a cut lip. 'Don't.'

'But you're hurt.'

'And so are you.'

It was as if she was suddenly hit with a silent curse at his words, Lyra sunk further into the bed as she groaned.

'Shh, where does it hurt?'

Lyra groaned again. 'My middle.'

Sirius smoothed her hair. 'It's alright. Why don't you get some rest, we'll talk more later, okay?'

Lyra nodded, softly saying 'alright' and after a few moments she was still once more.

Sirius stayed there kneeling next to her bed for a while, his eyes flicking over to the unlit candle on the bed side every so often. Finally, he rose from the floor, his knees protesting as he stretched them out. Not really feeling up to facing the blackness of sleep just yet, he left the room – wincing as he was forced to limp – and headed for the kitchen. Once he'd reached it, he flicked his wand blindly, illuminating the room.

'Holy-!' Sirius jumped as he looked up from the floor, finding a thoroughly unperturbed Marlene McKinnon sitting atop the kitchen counter munching on a chocolate biscuit.

'Quiet down, Black,' she said, looking around the room. She hopped off the counter and made her way into the large walk-in pantry. After a few seconds, Marlene reappeared holding a glass of orange juice. Finally, she looked at Sirius.

'You look awful,' she said blandly, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

Sirius rolled his eyes now that the shock had worn off. Of course it would be Marlene bloody McKinnon who he would meet at four in the morning in the Potter's kitchen, he should've been expecting it really. After he'd grabbed a biscuit for himself he sat down at the table opposite her.

'How the hell did you get in here? This house is supposed to be protected.'

'You really don't think that the Potter's would shut out their neighbours though, do you?'

'One can dream,' Sirius mumbled, mouth full of biscuit.

This time it was she who rolled her eyes. 'So,' her voice was a bit more serious this time, 'how are the two Black Bandits doing, anyway?'

Sirius looked at her incredulously. 'No one has _ever_ called us that!' When she gave no response, he continued. 'Lyra's,' he tried to figure out the best way to continue, 'Lyra's resting. She –she didn't have the best time of it.' There was a voice somewhere in his head telling him that he shouldn't be telling her this. But it was Marlene McKinnon for Merlin's sake! She had been rooming with Lyra for the last six years. She was James' neighbour, the closest thing the boy had to a sister, and she was no stranger to what went on in the stricter Pureblood families.

Marlene did nothing but raise a single eyebrow, if Sirius were anyone else he probably would've started fidgeting under her gaze. As it were, he calmly waited for her to talk again.

'And how are you holding up?' It was hard to find anything but mild curiosity in her voice.

'I'm here aren't I?' The bitterness in his was unmistakable.

'Hmm,' was all she said. The two fell in to a somewhat comfortable, if not a little strained, silence for a while, the only noise came from the grandfather clock standing in the living room down the hall.

'Well,' Sirius almost jumped again when she finally broke the silence. 'When you're both up and about properly, we'll all have to go to Diagon Alley for the day.' She rose from the table, putting her cup on the counter top. 'But, that will have to wait, I suppose.' She gave Sirius a little nod of the head, slid the back door open and casually strolled off into the darkness.

As Sirius sat there he couldn't help but be just a bit unnerved with the new-found knowledge that she could come and go from this house whenever she pleased.

XXXXXX

Lyra had been awake for two days now. After the first night, Sirius had moved into James' room, the spare bed being vacated by Remus who had returned home for the next few days whilst the full moon came and went.

But even though he slept upstairs in James' room, he still spent most of his time in the guest bedroom where his sister was recovering. She was still weak but, as Mrs Potter had observed, she was improving quickly.

She was still sleeping for long hours at a time but, with help from the pink salve, the cuts along her arms had healed and the bruise that had stretched down one side of her face had disappeared completely. He hadn't had a chance to see how the wounds on her stomach were progressing. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Mrs Potter assured him that they were healing well, that was enough for him.

Now that she was awake, however, the simmering anger that had slowly been growing, growling, within him whilst she was unconscious, had dimmed. It was now mixing with other emotions that had been swirling within him since that day they escaped. He just wasn't sure whether to yell at her or to thank Merlin that her eyes were finally opened.

That didn't stop him from approaching her and addressing the one thing that had been fueling his rage above all else.

'They could have killed you!'

'And they _would have_ killed you!'

Sirius pulled up. He clenched his jaw as he rubbed his temples.

It would be easy to tell himself that she was still weak, that they shouldn't be yelling at one another. But then she leaned forwards, looking right into his eyes and he realised that she didn't need to yell, she'd never needed to.

'You cannot tell me that you would have done nothing. If you had the option that I had, in that moment, you cannot sit there and tell me that you wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.'

His jaw clenched tighter.

'I didn't think so,' she said, leaning back into her pillows, letting her eyelids drop.

In his mind's eye, Sirius saw himself saying all the things he wanted to say in that moment as guilt reared within him. Then he imagined her response and the words that had been bubbling uncomfortably in his throat receded.

She didn't open her eyes as he stood. Fishing around in his pockets he found what he was looking for, he withdrew it from the back pocket of his jeans and tossed it into Lyra's lap. Her eyes opened immediately.

'What's this?' She held up the envelope.

'Turn it over.'

Her face fell when she did so and took in the green cursive.

'How did he know?'

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. 'It's Dumbledore, he knows.'

Lyra frowned down at it, as if she were afraid of the contents.

'Do you think he knows how we got out?' She finally looked at him in a sudden realisation, uncloaked panic brimming within the silver rings around her irises. 'You used magic! You apparated!' She was quickly becoming frantic. 'You're not even supposed to know how to do that yet! If he knows about that then he could know about the other week, at dinner, about what I -!'

'Hey!' Sirius knelt down at the side of her bed and took one of her slightly trembling hands in his. 'If he or the ministry had picked up on any of it, we would have known by now.'

'And you haven't received a letter?'

'No.'

'Or seen any ministry owls entering the house?'

'No.'

'Or-'

'Lyra.' He said quickly. 'Nothing is going to happen.' He had almost been about to say _I promise_ , but experience had told him not to say such things unless he was sure he could follow through on it.

'But, that night at dinner-'

Suddenly the door that Sirius had closed behind him, swung open. Sirius turned to see a very ashen-faced James standing in the doorway. In one hand was his Hogwarts letter, being crumpled under the boy's white-knuckled grip, the other fist – free of anything to hold – was firmly clenched.

James simply kept staring vacantly ahead as Sirius walked towards him.

'James?' Sirius tried. James didn't answer, he just stood there, staring. Sirius took a step closer so that he was directly in front of him. 'James?'

But instead of answering him and without even looking at him, James opened his closed fist and angled it towards Sirius.

Sirius only just got his hand under James' in time to catch something that had slid from what he'd thought was James' empty hand. It was small and slightly warm from being held in a sweaty palm. Sirius, frowning deeply, looked away from James and down into the thing in his hand.

It was a pin, its silver back glinted innocently up at him, he turned it over.

Disbelief dawned on him.

The face of the pin gleamed gold, blazoned in big bold lettering across it were the letters _HB_. They were so big, those letters, there was no escaping them, they were laughing at him.

'H. B.'

'Head Boy.' James' voice was croaky, hollow slightly. 'Mum and Dad want to have a big dinner to – to,' he seemed to be having trouble getting the word out, 'to celebrate.'

Sirius didn't know what to say. He could feel his mouth hanging open, he knew he was staring at James, probably with a mixture of shock and confusion. What did you say when you've spent the last six years being scorned and shouted at by holders of those pins, and taking pleasure in it?

He remembered this as he brought a hand to James' shoulder and said in a half-joking, half-serious kind of way, 'At least you won't be able to give yourself detention.' He tried to smile at his own joke.

James didn't smile back.

XXXX

Mr and Mrs Potter truly did put on an exceptional spread to celebrate their son's new position. Both James and Sirius were still in shock. Although James' mood lifted significantly upon learning that Lily had been made Head Girl.

Nonetheless something still gnawed at Sirius. He was sure it wasn't resentment, he knew James was a good leader, he had known it for years.

Say one thing of Sirius Black, say that he did not like change.

XXXXXXXX

If there was one thing Walburga Black would never do, it would be to let anyone see anything but how confident she was. And this is what she thought, like a mantra repeating within her, with every clip of her shoes on the cobbled stone, of every swing of her dragon hide purse as she strode through Diagon Alley.

She avoided the gazes of those she did not know but gave a stiff nod of the head to those she recognised. And as she approached the back end of the Alley, she never lost that well practiced confidence and the grace that came with it. And as she passed the grimy sign that read Knockturn Alley, only briefly looking at it before making her way down into the shadowed lane, her posture only became taller.

Knockturn Alley was one feature of Wizarding London that would surely never change. It had not changed for many years, from it's blackened bricks to the shops that lined the Alley and the whores and beggars that filled it. So Walburga didn't have to look down at them as she strode on through, she had no need to glance in store windows or to the street signs, for she remembered where she was going.

A peculiar high pitched tune seemed to echo off into the far corners of the shop as Walburga Black entered through the heavy wooden front door. She tried to ignore how it lingered as she took off her gloves, stowing them away in her purse.

As the tune finally faded away a cackle quickly replaced it, just as high pitched, just as peculiar as what had come before it.

Walburga looked hastily into the surrounding darkness. The front windows were covered in thick, dark drapes. In the far back wall of the room, a small bared window was set close to the ceiling. It was through this window that the only small stream of light was allowed to break through, not that it reached very far. Walburga could make out tall, long shelves, laden with ancient and mouldy looking books, some lay open, as if abandoned halfway through perusal. Before her was a desk, the dark wood was chipping and splintering away, peeling back from neglect. Anything beyond this desk was shrouded in an unnatural black.

The cackling grew louder until a hunched, grey haired and thoroughly grimy looking woman appeared on the other side of the desk. As the old woman regarded Walburga her cackling softened.

'Well, well, well,' her voice could only be likened to a creaking door, painful and broken, 'if it isn't the reverent Mrs Black, I haven't seen you in a very long time, my dear. What's it been, close to sixteen years now?'

Walburga scowled at the smirk held by the old hag.

'And what brings you to me this time? Do you wish to discuss another,' she paused, looking about the room, as if the right words would appear out of the open books on the shelf, 'business opportunity with me?'

Walburga scoffed. 'Hardly, I am not someone who makes the same mistakes twice.' She took another look around the room, dismissing the hag, who, Walburga was pleased to note, had lost the edge off her smirk. 'No, I have come to discuss the last dealing we conducted together. I trust you remember how the last conversation we had over that topic turned out?'

From the corner of her eye, Walburga saw the hag touch her side gingerly.

'You may have tricked me once before with your ability to find loopholes in your … dealings, but I can assure you that I have learnt a valuable lesson in caution because of it.' Walburga turned to look at the elderly witch again, 'Thank you for that.' She gave a tight-lipped mocking smile. 'You once told me that there would be a price to be paid for your services.'

'And I told _you_ that patience will reward you in the knowledge of that price.'

Walburga narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits. 'I have been patient for long enough!' She hissed. 'You may have thought that I had forgotten your words, and perhaps for a time I managed to put it out of my mind, but circumstances have changed. Now I want to know when you plan on settling our account, and how. And I want to know exactly what other consequences our deal had,' a shadow that had nothing to do with the lack of light fell over Walburga's face as she stepped solidly towards the hag. 'Because it seems that there were quite a few.'

And she was astonished when the hag's smirk grew tenfold, not that Walburga would ever let it show.


	5. Chapter 5

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **I personally have really started to love writing Marlene's character ... does anyone enjoy reading her as much as I love writing her? (I'd like to think so ;) )**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _And for the smallest second that almost stretched long enough to consume her completely, Lyra hated her brother._

* * *

She was smiling, and laughing … _laughing_! Four days ago she was lying on a bed, face pale, breathing shallow, completely and utterly unconscious, and now she was laughing! That was until she stopped abruptly, gingerly holding her side.

'Oh, please, don't make me laugh,' Lyra said, grinning, reclining back into her pillows.

'Is everything alright?' Remus asked, slightly raising himself off the chair he'd been occupying. From the other side of the bed James rolled his eyes. As Remus leaned further over the bed, Lyra held up a hand, stilling him.

'Remus, I'm fine, really,' she added. 'It's still a little tender is all.'

'What's tender?' Sirius asked, emerging from the hallway. 'Your love for me? We all know that, Lyra.' Lyra's sarcastic laugh was lost when a small cough sounded from behind Sirius, whose grin quickly fell. 'Oh,' he said, glancing to somewhere behind him, 'I found something in the hallway,' he turned to James. 'You should really clean up around here more, y'know?' Sirius stepped away and a blonde figure pushed her way into the room.

Marlene's full-faced smile, completely ignoring Sirius' comment, only grew as she took in the girl lying on the bed.

'There she is!' Marlene bounded towards the bed. 'My favourite Black!'

Remus hastily moved before Marlene had the chance to push him out of the way. He looked to the others, hoping for some sort of support, but saw that the two boys were quietly talking amongst themselves. Abandoning hope of any form of back up, Remus stood a bit away from the bed and watched as Marlene gave Lyra a gentle, one armed hug.

Remus took the chance to see just how Lyra's recovery was coming along as she lay smiling and chatting with Marlene. The scratches on her face had healed with mere patches of slight pink hues remaining on her skin. Her hair was back to it's smooth, straight length and had adopted it's usual faint silver glow to it, even in the midday light. Yet the light, the twinkle, he had come to find comfort in that usually resided in her eyes was a mere speck of what it usually was.

She hid it well, but he could see the exhaustion. It was something he was well versed in, how it overwhelmed you, tried to conquer you. He saw it in Sirius, too, they both hid it well, Remus supposed it came with practice.

'So, when are we going to Diagon?' Marlene was practically bouncing.

'Not for another day or two, I'm afraid,' Lyra said, looking towards her brother, she gave him a small smile. 'Mrs Potter says I should rest for a bit longer.'

'And besides,' called James from the corner, 'Pete's not arriving till tomorrow morning, we wouldn't have been able to go without him even if Lyra could come.'

And then the Marauders would be together again. They should have been reunited more than a week ago for James' birthday. But Remus turned out being the only one who could make it, what with Sirius facing the horrors at home and Peter's mother suddenly deciding to go on a trip to the continent.

'Actually I was thinking of going tomorrow.'

Everyone looked at Sirius.

'What? I'm not allowed to want to go places?'

'No, it's not that,' James said from beside him.

Sirius hopped down from his place on the arm of the chair James was sitting in and started lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

'Look,' he said, watching everyone watching him, 'the leg's as good as new.' Everyone was staring at him, a little unsure.

After a small pause, James's face broke out into a grin. 'Sure we can go, Sirius!' Remus could faintly pick up on the caution in his voice. 'What – I mean why do you want to go?'

Sirius looked around to James, eyebrows knitted together tightly. 'Well, uh, I was actually wanting to go by myself, really.'

'What?'

'No offence James, there's just some stuff I need to do.' Sirius shrugged.

James wasn't the only one taken aback, Remus could count on one hand the number of times James and Sirius did things without the other, even if it was just a trip to Diagon Alley.

He didn't know how much James and Sirius had talked over the past few days, how much Sirius had shared with his friend, but Remus could tell that James was still airing on the side of caution. But there was an unspoken feeling between the three boys that Sirius would eventually say what he needed to and in the interim, all they could do was simply be there for him, for both of them.

James, still looking slightly bewildered, just nodded his head. 'Okay, I guess that's cool,' a forced grin masquerading as an easy one slipped onto James' features. 'Sure.'

'Good,' Sirius said before muttering something about the bathroom and leaving the room.

Remus caught James' eye and just shook his head, shrugging. Marlene simply looked on, curiosity positively burning in her eyes as she watched the scene unfold. But when Remus looked towards Lyra he found her sunken into her pillows, her head leaned back and her eyes closed. Remus couldn't say how he knew but there was something about the way her forehead was pinched ever so slightly that gave him the impression that she was annoyed.

XXXXXXX

Remus rolled over with a groan. The light from the moon rolled in through the open window. He was tempted to get up and slam the window shut, as if this would somehow block out his discomfort.

 _As if._

Clumsily grabbing for the glass of water on his bedside table, Remus almost groaned again upon discovering it empty. He carefully slipped from his bed and tiptoed over to the door. Looking back into the room he found that his caution wasn't needed as Sirius' bed was empty, the covers thrown back messily, and it was a well-known fact that James would stay asleep during an earthquake.

Frowning, Remus made his way downstairs, glass firmly clutched in his hand.

When he was halfway down the staircase Remus heard murmurs and saw the soft, distant glow of a flickering flame. Murmurs and glow grew and when he'd reached the landing he could make out that there were two voices.

He knew he shouldn't, he should go to the kitchen, fill up his glass and return back upstairs to bed. Later he would tell himself that the reason he failed to do these things was a result of Sirius and James' bad influence on him. So, instead of heading towards the direction of the kitchen, he turned towards the back of the house and followed the light and voices.

Both had him stopping just outside the room Lyra was staying in. Remus had at first been tempted to run in and offer his help, thinking that Lyra had taken another turn again, but then he heard quick footsteps sounding along the floor mixed with Lyra's voice and he could tell from the clear way she spoke that she was in no danger. So Remus just hid and listened.

'Sirius, we've been through this.' Remus heard a great deal of restraint in Lyra's voice. 'Can't we just drop it?'

'No!'

Remus blinked. He hadn't been expecting Sirius to sound so, so harsh.

'You're not going to ignore this one, Lyra. You can't just do that with everything you don't like thinking about.'

Remus pictured Lyra clenching her jaw.

 _Better tread lightly, Sirius._

'I've apologised for what I did at dinner,' Lyra said with deadly calm.

'I'm not talking about what _you_ did!'

Remus blinked again.

'And I've told you before, you have nothing to be sorry about. You were brilliant.'

'Sirius,' Lyra warned.

A chair scraped on the floor boards and Remus had to take half a step closer to the doorway as Sirius lowered his voice.

'I'm talking about what happened beforehand.'

Lyra groaned half-heartedly.

'There was more to that conversation and I know you know it too, there's no point denying _that_.'

'I'm not denying anything. I just don't know why you want to look into it so much. What are you hoping to learn from all this, anyway?'

There was a moments silence. Remus used it to try and make some sort of sense of what he was hearing. But, try as he might, he couldn't make heads nor tails of it. He could feel the tension seeping from the room and it was making it very hard to concentrate. He simply found himself staring blankly down the dark hallway.

'Just tell me that this has nothing to do with those books you swiped from Mother's personal library.'

Another pause. Lyra groaned again, there was nothing half-hearted this time.

'There were hundreds of books in that library. Why are you so focused on this lot? No! You know what, I don't want to know. If it has anything to do with that dreadful night than you can keep it to yourself.'

'You're right, they have everything to do with that night! I know they did. Whatever they were talking about, the answer is somewhere in those books, I just need to know what it was.'

'No, Sirius, you don't need to know. Honestly you and James can't help but stick your noses into places they ought not to go, that's a sure fire way to get them blown off if you ask me.'

'I have every right and reason to go looking for answers, Lyra. They were obviously hiding something from us, and not just Mother and Father, but everyone that night. And you can't pretend it didn't have anything to do with us, not after this, not after what's happened. I just needed a little more time to study those books, the answer's there, I know it! If I could just find some more copies.'

'You won't find any book that our parents kept in Flourish and Blotts, Sirius.'

There was yet another break in the twins heated conversation, this one seemed to be stretching a bit. Remus was about to turn and leave, knowing that some of the twins' conversations sometimes ended in abrupt silences, both of them being as stubborn as the other. But then he heard his name.

'Do you really think that James or Remus, or even Peter, are just going to let you take a leisurely stroll down Knockturn Alley?'

Knockturn Alley? Remus could list at least four bookshops other than Flourish and Blotts that could be found in Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley was a place dedicated to the Dark Arts, or anyone associated with it. The only reason it still stood was that nothing particularly overt ever happened there. Those who ventured into the dark streets all had ways of concealing their activities that had proved untraceable. Remus may not know much about Pureblood society but what he did know, from what he'd been told, is that the Black twins now had targets on their backs and Knockturn Alley would not be the place to get rid of them.

'Well,' Sirius started, a bit unsure, 'If James really wants to come all I have to do is take a detour into Quality Quidditch Supplies, Peter will surely follow and then I'll sneak away, he'll never even notice I'm gone.'

'And Remus?'

Remus could practically hear Sirius scowl across at her.

'I'll go by myself, then!'

'Not exactly the point I was trying to get across.'

'I know very well what you're trying to say, alright? I don't understand what the big problem is anyway.'

'The problem is that it's dangerous!' Lyra was obviously trying not to raise her voice, so she attempted to whisper instead. 'Do you know the kinds of people who lurk down there?'

'Do you?' Sirius' voice was clipped. 'I'm trying to help, Lyra.'

Remus heard her sigh. 'I know.'

The silence this time was different, it had a certain sense of finality which the previous ones had lacked.

As Remus silently climbed the stairs again, empty glass forgotten in his hand, he thought about telling James what he'd heard. Maybe if James kept a closer eye on him, Sirius wouldn't have the chance to sneak away. Because Lyra was right, anything to do with Knockturn Alley was dangerous.

What he didn't understand, however, was what the entire conversation that was still repeating over and over again in his head was all about. And he started asking the question that, perhaps, should have been posed when the twins had appeared at the Potter's doorstep, bloody and dying.

After all this time, after suffering silently for so long, what had finally lead this to go from bad to worse?

And maybe more importantly, what the hell happened at that dinner?

One thing was for certain, Remus couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts so that everything could return to normal.

XXXX

He didn't know how they knew, but somehow, they knew.

He suspected that Lyra had told them but that would have been uncharacteristic of her seeing as how she usually just sat and watched things play out, she told him it was more entertaining that way.

That didn't take away from the fact that from the moment they set out for Diagon the next morning, none of them would let him out of their sights.

Peter, who had arrived early that morning, was accompanying James, Sirius and Remus. The others had filled Peter in on what had been happening in the Potter house, shortly after he arrived. Sirius had stayed mostly quite throughout the report and Peter did not pressed him for details, which Sirius knew he wouldn't.

Mr Potter had begrudgingly agreed to their going to Diagon for the day unaccompanied. This should have come as a great relief to Sirius, and at first it had, but then they had arrived in the crowded street and, shake them as he may, Sirius soon realised that he was not going to be free of the others so that he could quickly sneak away like he'd originally planned.

They proved to be a colossal nuisance. They clung to Sirius all day, never letting him leave their sight, except for the one time Sirius had had to convince them that he was really only going to the use the loo.

As he was leaving the bathroom however, a sudden thought struck him. Quickly looking across the pub to make sure that they hadn't seen him, Sirius hunched his shoulders and started towards the front door. On his way he grabbed a cloak that had been hanging on the back of a chair. Throwing the heavy thing around his shoulders, he flipped the collar up, hiding his face.

He didn't look up until he reached Knockturn Alley, even then he made sure to keep his head low, never drawing back the flipped-up collar.

He passed all sorts of antique shops, grimy looking apothecaries and a shopfront with what looked like dragon eggs lined up in the front window.

He didn't make eye contact with anyone he passed, for even though he couldn't see them, he would walk through a cloud of old sweat, piss and sour liquor every time he passed them by.

In the distance he saw a book sitting behind a smudged window, his breath caught as he took another step and more books came into view.

 _Finally_.

There was no doubt in his mind that by now the boys would have noticed that he had yet to return from the bathroom. He wondered where they'd gone to look for him first, probably Zonko's. He had plenty of time.

He was five strides away from the bookshop when a sharp-nailed grip closed around his wrist. He tried jerking it away but the grip was iron-clad.

He followed the arm and was met with an extremely old looking woman. She was smiling an awful smile, mouth full of yellow, rotting teeth on full display. Sirius wrinkled his nose without thinking, she wreaked of mothballs, excessive amounts of cheap perfume and something metallic he couldn't quite place.

'And what brings such a young and handsome man down this lane?' She crowed up at him, looking around the alley, her wretched smile growing when she realised just how sparse this part of the alley was. 'You're not alone down here, surely?'

'What's it to you?' Sirius sneered.

The woman raised a thick eyebrow, looking Sirius up and down slowly, her grip on his wrist never slackening. 'Pity,' she muttered. 'I get the scabbard but not the blade, how disappointing.' She looked at him again. 'But what a fine scabbard it is.'

And then she was pulling him with a strength that momentarily stunned him. But he recovered quickly and dug his heels in, trying to yank his arm free.

'What the hell do you think you're doing, woman? Let go of me!'

But she acted like she didn't hear him. Panic was well and truly setting in now as they neared closer and closer to a shadowed side street when a voice rang down the Alley towards them.

'Sirius?!'

 _Thank fuck._

'Remus!' Sirius called over his shoulder. 'Remus, down here!'

As soon as he'd called out, the witch had released Sirius and fled impossibly quickly down the side street. Sirius whipped his wand out and had it pointing down into the shadows by the time Remus reached his side.

'Sirius! What the hell do you think you're doing down here?' Remus hissed in his ear.

Not looking away from the shadowy street, Sirius lowered his wand. 'Nothing,' he turned away. 'Nothing, let's go.'

XXXX

He arrived back at the Potters in a right foul mood, a mood that didn't last long at all. There was some sort of commotion down the hall and immediately Sirius' heart started hammering in his chest.

Following the hurried voices down the hall, he found Mr and Mrs Potter standing over Lyra's bed, her stomach exposed and the veins around the wounds that were healing ever so slowly were black, as if her blood had become thick and dark. Like a strange, complex jigsaw that tore through her skin.

James, Peter and Remus were quickly ushered from the room by James' father whilst Mrs Potter got Sirius to help prop up his sister, so that she could pour potion after potion down her throat.

They worked well into the evening but by the time they had finished, Mrs Potter was certain that the worst was now over and that she had been expecting some sort of counter curse to all the healing charms she had been placing on Lyra.

'I'll give this to your parents, Sirius,' Dorea said in a sweet voice when she had a chance to finally sit down after the ordeal, a small glass of firewhiskey in her hand, 'they don't give up easily.'

XX

Much to Mrs Potter's astonishment, Lyra was recovering even more quickly this time around and by the time the following night rolled around, she was up and walking gingerly about the house.

As soon as he saw that she was awake and talking again, Sirius remembered his trip to Diagon.

He reserved all his glares for his sister, and for Marlene for the half hour she had decided to pop by. Lyra, to further his frustration, had just looked at him smugly when he'd told her about the boy's behaviour the day before, and told him that it was probably for the best that they were keeping an eye on him.

He didn't mention the fact that he had managed to slip away from them, or what had happened in Knockturn Alley. He knew she'd just get angry which would inevitably lead to him feeling guilty, but he told himself the reason he didn't tell her was that she was still recovering.

XXXX

The following day was the last day of the summer holidays, the day before they'd all return to Hogwarts for the final time, which meant another trip into Diagon Alley, with even more people.

After assuring Mr and Mrs Potter that they wouldn't need an Auror escort, James, Sirius, Peter, Lyra, Marlene, and Remus left for Diagon Alley via the Knight Bus.

Knowing that the amount of books each of them needed to buy would only slow them down, the trip to Flourish and Blotts was their last stop.

Sirius had finally found some time to be alone, it wasn't his fault that that spot happened to be in the section of the bookshop that focused on the darker aspects of magic. It was nothing like the information he could possibly hope to find in the dodgy shops of Knockturn Alley but it was something at least.

'I thought you'd given up?'

Lyra's voice made him start. She stood with her arms folded across her chest and a single eyebrow raised as she regarded him. He closed the book and stood from the stool he had been sitting in.

'It can't hurt to just have a look,' he said, putting the book back onto the shelf.

'If you say so.'

Sirius opened his mouth when another voice cut through the silence.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't the latest failures.'

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to face the smug face of Rabastan Lestrange. The boy was a foot taller than Sirius and was dressed in a set of very expensive looking, tailored black robes, his eyes shone with undisguised triumph as he regarded Sirius. Lestrange looked at the book Sirius had just replaced.

'Bit late to be trying to get into your parents good graces isn't it?'

Sirius' eyes narrowed. 'Hardly, I was actually trying to find out what horrible potion your mother must have swallowed in order for you to come out looking like that.' Sirius couldn't contain his smirk. 'Or rather, what potion her mother drunk before her.'

A soft hand closed around his wrist from behind him.

'Sirius,' Lyra warned softly.

Lestrange, who had turned positively livid, was about to bite back to Sirius' comment but stopped when Lyra spoke, as if he had just noticed that she was there as well. Sirius was ready to pounce at the boy, fists ready, when Lestrange's angry frown turned into a cool smirk.

'Ah,' he said, voice icily smooth, 'if it isn't the Lovely Lyra.'

Sirius clenched his fist, Lyra's grip turning firm around his wrist.

'You mustn't blame yourself too much for your poor brother's actions, you see he's completely insane.' Sirius bristled as Lestrange looked his sister up and down. 'I'd be happy to show you how a normal man acts,' he said, raising an eyebrow.

 _That's it!_ As Sirius stepped forward, the grip on his wrist tightened, holding him back. Lestrange's smirk grew, coiling up his cheek. But before Sirius had a chance to break free of her hold, Lyra was pulling him back into the main area of the shop.

From behind them, Sirius could hear Lestrange's laughing voice, 'I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, my dear, don't be a stranger!'

When they caught up with the others, Lyra released Sirius' wrist as if it were on fire. Neither twin spoke much for the rest of the day, if the others noticed, they didn't say anything, to which both Sirius and Lyra were grateful.

XXXXXX

Later that night, when Sirius was changing for bed something caught his eye. He raised his wrist to see the blackened outline of a hand print there. Sirius Black had a rather fitful night's sleep the night before his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay another rework is happening to this story… I know I know, but this is what happens when I write everything on a whim and then don't start thinking about plot seriously until** _ **after**_ **I've written nearly 60,000 words of it :P.**

 ***Edited as of 09.04.2017* *NEW CONTENT!***

 **I've realised that I want to explore all the other characters and not just the main three (Sirius, Lyra and Remus). I want to delve deeper into things like James and Lily and the backstory of Regulus. So I hope you forgive me and please tell me what you think.**

 **Thanks!**

* * *

 _He'd betrayed them. Now he'd avenge them._

* * *

She stood still amongst the chaos. From all around her there was noise and smoke. The whistles of the conductor, of the train, the high-pitched shrieks of various animals blending together to create a loud, messy animal cry. The constant stream of chatter flowed throughout the platform and washed over her in steady waves, broken every so often by a particularly enthusiastic call of excitement of the cry of a younger child. Even from a short distance behind her, she could hear Mrs Potter fussing over her son, who was squirming away from her as she tried to pin his Head Boy badge to his jumper pocket.

But it was all white noise to her, she couldn't pay attention to any of it. She didn't notice the great plumes of smoke rolling like storm clouds over her. She didn't take in the sight of the gleaming red steam engine that stood before her, even though she was looking right at it.

She didn't hear, see or feel any of these things because all her efforts were being put into not turning to face the one thing she _was_ aware of.

Without even looking she knew exactly where they were standing. The intensity of their glares made the side of her neck itch. Every muscle was tensed to stop her from fidgeting. She wasn't even sure _who_ they were glaring at.

The Potter's were still behind her – Mrs Potter was now trying to flatten James' hair. Sirius was standing next to him in throws of laughter. It was just like Sirius not to notice what was happening.

But she'd noticed who was standing across the platform as soon as they'd arrived.

Someone moved to stand close by her side. If possible she stilled even further. That was until she felt fingers reach out and brush gently against her own. As soon as she felt the calloused skin next to hers she felt herself relax. But she dare not relax too much, appearances had to be maintained, especially with _them_ watching.

After a moment the steam engine let out a blaring whistle.

Carefully, Lyra turned and looked up finding that Remus was already watching her.

He was the epitome of calm. Concern lurked behind his eyes too, but he hid it well. He raised his eyebrows.

 _Ready?_

Lyra breathed deeply, turned back to the train and nodded.

 _Ready._

She never looked behind her to see her parents hard faces.

XXXX

They always say that when one door closes another one opens. But Lyra had just entered an impossibly long, dark corridor. She couldn't see the door at the end of it and the one behind her was starting to creak every-so-slowly shut. Sometimes she felt herself alone in the corridor, in the darkness that stretched before her. Then there were times like now. Sitting in the compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express as it chugged out of London with Sirius next to her, with Remus opposite her, and James and Peter next to him, she felt like maybe, just maybe she could take just a few steps towards the darkness, towards the door she hoped was there, waiting ajar with a glowing light behind.

The train rattled, sending a jolt of pain straight to her middle. It took all her concentration not to wince. Mrs Potter had concocted a paste – a salve of sorts – that helped with her wounds, but they were still annoyingly tender. She'd tried asking Mrs Potter exactly what curse it was that had made them. She got the distinct impression that Mrs Potter knew, or at least had strong suspicions, but she only ever pursed her lips and shook her head, saying that she'd never come across anything of this nature, but that she was confident that the salve would be enough to heal them fully. For some reason, this annoyed Lyra, she just wasn't sure whether it was the fact that Mrs Potter was more than likely lying to her, or that she was simply not used to being vulnerable – to being hurt so obviously – in front of anyone, anyone except Sirius that is.

'Well, I don't know about you lot,' said the boy himself, suddenly standing, 'but I'm bored out of my mind.' He slapped James over the shoulder, pushing him at the same time to stand as well. 'Come on, surely there's something to do on this train. Maybe we can find the trolley.'

James shook his head, half amused, half disbelieving. 'You have some sort of disorder, you realise?' He got to his feet. 'Is it really that hard for you to stay still for longer than thirty minutes?'

'Apparently not. Let's go.'

Sirius was already out in the corridor, James not far behind him when he turned back. 'Pete, tag along?'

As was so often the case, Peter lit up with the prospect of being included. He'd become much better at hiding this, but Lyra could still clearly see the admiration, the surprise that brightened his eyes. He nodded eagerly and joined the others in the corridor.

'Great,' Sirius beamed. 'I'm starving.'

'Be careful!' Lyra called, smirking at Remus when he gave her a questioning look.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her. 'What d'you mean?'

'I heard rumours late last year that some of the girls have been trying to brew a love potion to slip you.' She looked from one boy to another. 'All of you actually.' She tried not to frown too much when she looked at Remus.

'Do you really think I'm going to just accept whatever food is given to me? Do you _really_ think I'm that dim?'

Remus and Lyra didn't even look at each other as they said 'Yes!' in perfect harmony.

James snorted with laughter. Peter looked as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh along with James or mirror Sirius' bitter eye roll.

'Trust me,' Sirius said, ignoring James completely. 'There's only one girl who scares me and I'm pretty sure she's not about to slip me a love potion.' And he was off down the corridor.

They all smirked after him. They knew who Sirius was speaking of, and Lyra had to agree with him. Of all the girls on the train right now, the one least likely to try to seduce her brother was Marlene McKinnon. And thank Merlin for it.

XXX

'She's going to have a coronary when she sees that thing on you, you realise that, don't you?'

They'd been walking the length of the train for about ten minutes and the conversation had led to their predictions of what would happen at the Prefect's Meeting that started in roughly five minutes time.

James frowned. 'What, not when she sees me sitting in the compartment?'

'Nah,' Peter pipped up. 'She'll probably just think you've snuck in there with Moony.'

James' frown deepened, which only made Sirius' smirk grow. 'You know we're right, right? She'll have scheduled a meeting with Dumbledore before the feast's begun.' Sirius glanced into compartments as they walked by, smirking at James, smirking even more when anyone saw him and sent him a hopeful wave. 'Yep, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she convinces him to shout out Moony's name instead of yours when he's announcing the Head boy and girl.'

'I don't care. She thinks I'm going to be lousy, I'll show her. I'm going to organise the crap out of this position.' James' voice was hard and determined, not that it surprised Sirius much. Tell James Potter that he couldn't do something and he would see it done. _Probably a side effect from being told he could do anything he wanted his whole life._ Sirius snorted at his own thoughts. _He was probably told that he was levitating the moon into the sky every night._ 'Yes boys,' James said, his voice lifting with new found purpose. 'I'm going to lift my game this year. I didn't give up the Quidditch captaincy for nothing, after all.'

'I thought that Davies got the captaincy?'

'Please Pete, use your head. I was clearly the only contender, but they realised I couldn't possibly do both as well as study for my NEWTs on top of it all.' He turned his head to look at them. 'They gave it to the poor bloke cause they had no other choice.'

Sirius would have made fun of his arrogance if not for the fact that he had become a little uneasy. 'We can still give the Slytherins what for, though, can't we?'

'No!' There was little room for argument in James' firm tone. A compartment door opened ahead in the corridor. When James saw who it was, his shoulders tensed. 'Well, maybe just one Slytherin can't hurt.'

Sirius felt his unease morph into excitement. James had two weaknesses. And although he was still yet to find a way to benefit from his weakness with Lily Evans, the weakness he had when it came to putting Severus Snape in his place, gave Sirius an unending source of entertainment. Besides, the creep deserved it.

Snape was walking away from the group and hadn't yet seen them. James took his wand out from its place in his belt and pointed it steadily to Snape's shoes.

There was a small cry as Snape fell to the floor, his shoe laces a jumbled mess, his feet tied helplessly together.

Sirius couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.

Snape's head snapped around at once. 'Potter!'

Sirius was sure that Snape was calling James every name in the book, but he couldn't concentrate for all the laughter.

James, who was unexpectedly composed, started walking forward towards the boy, Sirius and a worried looking Peter following in his wake. They stopped beside Snape, who was just in the middle of telling James where he could stick his wand when James tsked down at him.

'Now really, Snivellus. Is that any way to talk to your Head Boy?'

Sirius's cheeks were starting to hurt. Snape's immediate confusion turned to absolute horror as his eyes slid down and caught the shining Head Boy badge pinned to James' jumper. His already sallow face grew even paler as he looked back into James' eyes.

James, however, simply smirked coolly. 'Might want to watch that attitude of yours Snivellus. Wouldn't want to get in to too much trouble this year, would we?' He offered one last smirk before stepping over Snape and continuing on.

Sirius was all set on laughing all the way to their own compartment. But that was before Snape found his voice.

'I'm not the only one who should watch themselves this year.'

Sirius' laughter stopped so abruptly he swallowed a painful lung full of air as he looked down, and saw Snape glaring up at him. He knelt beside the hook-nosed Slytherin.

'And what the hell's that supposed to mean?'

Now it was Snape's turn to smirk. 'I'm sure you can figure that one out for yourself. Unless you really _are_ that stupid, which wouldn't at all surprise me.'

Sirius, ignoring James' warning cry, grabbed Snape's shirt collar, raising him a little more from the floor. 'You better be careful about who you threaten, _Snivellus._ You could get yourself very much hurt.' There was no small amount of gratification when Snape flinched slightly at Sirius' growling voice.

He composed himself quickly, trying to keep as defiant as possible. 'I wasn't just talking about you.'

Sirius actually _did_ growl this time. 'Neither was I.'

He threw Snape back to the ground and stalked off. He didn't escape the psychopaths that were his parents, he didn't go through all that pain, all that horror of watching her on the verge of death before his eyes, to just sit by and watch some _Slytherins_ try to intimidate them.

XXXX

The train rattled again, causing Lyra to press her head a little harder against the glass to ride out the jolt. She opened her eyes and leant back in her seat, watching the scenery pass by her.

At last, some peace and quiet. It was the first time she had been truly alone in weeks. Even when she was sleeping in the Potter's guest bedroom, she knew that one of James' parents would check in on her throughout the night. But now, with James and Remus in the Prefects carriage, and Sirius and Peter off who knows where, she finally had a moment with nothing but the tell-tale signs of the clicking train tracks underfoot to comfort her.

Shunned, that's what she was now, her and Sirius, shunned from a society that had never truly wanted either of them in the first place. Needed, perhaps. Wanted, never. And perhaps they were better off without that world, those people, but where were they now?

They were grey, stuck somewhere between light and darkness, but she would allow herself to be smothered by the light, gladly.

'There you are!'

Lyra only noticed how tight her forehead was from her frowning when she looked away from the window. But upon seeing Marlene, followed by Dorcas Meadows, coming into the compartment, Lyra let out a smile.

'We've been looking for you everywhere!' Marlene fell somewhat lazily into the seat opposite Lyra.

Lyra stood to greet Dorcas who she hadn't seen since last term. Dorcas threw her arms around her friend and squeezed as tightly as she dared. This caution was not missed by Lyra.

She looked over Dorcas' shoulder to Marlene.

'So, I may have told her.'

Lyra lifted her eyebrows at Marlene, Dorcas still not breaking the hug.

'Everything.' Marlene answered the unasked question with ease.

Lyra rolled her eyes, turning her attention to her current situation.

'Dorcas,' she mumbled. 'Dorcas, it's fine, I'm fine, really.' Lyra patted Dorcas' shoulder and after a moment or two, Dorcas peeled herself away from her friend. Lyra sat back down in her seat next to the window exchanging a look with Marlene. Dorcas, however, remained standing.

'Why didn't you write me?' Dorcas' voice shook a little. 'Why did I have to find everything out from _her_?' Dorcas pointed to Marlene, her eyes never leaving Lyra's.

Marlene scoffed. 'And what, may I ask, is so affronting about receiving information from me?'

Dorcas shot her a withering look.

'I'm sorry Dorcas,' Lyra interjected. 'I wanted to write you, but Mr and Mrs Potter didn't want me sending _any_ mail out. Sirius couldn't send mail out either.'

'Yeah well all Sirius' friends knew where he was, didn't they?' She plonked down in the space next to Marlene.

Lyra could only apologise again before silence fell, interrupted only by the sound of the train moving along the tracks. Lyra resumed watching the scenery.

'So you're really okay, then?' Came a small voice.

Lyra looked across to see Dorcas staring at her, a Healers gaze upon her. She offered her friend what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

'I really am.' There was something hidden in those words, some deeper feeling that Lyra didn't intend on expressing, she wasn't even sure if she meant it. But it seemed to be enough for Dorcas, whose face split into a broad grin as she launched into telling the girls everything that had happened to her over the last few weeks.

'And then we visited my great-aunt in Greece! I'd not met her before but she seemed thrilled to have such a 'special young lady' in the family.' Dorcas said the last part in a thick Greek accent, her giggling made Lyra chuckle where Marlene rolled her eyes, a small smile toying around her mouth.

Dorcas was a muggle-born and she seemed to have relatives scattered all over the world. From the sounds of it, Dorcas had spent much of the summer travelling the world with her parents in order to meet up with old relatives. At least someone had had a pleasant summer.

Dorcas had just started telling the girls about her trip to Spain when the compartment door slid open with a thud.

'And you tell _him_ that I don't give a horse's arse how high up in the ministry his father is,' Sirius yelled to someone they couldn't see further down the corridor, 'if he wants to sort this out like a real man instead of cowering behind you lot, he knows where to find me!' He turned with a grin to find himself facing a compartment full of bewildered looking girls.

Well Dorcas was bewildered, she had stopped talking as soon as she saw that it was Sirius who had opened the door. Her face flushed when Sirius looked over her briefly.

'Ladies,' Sirius' grin grew as he tilted his head, taking the seat next to his sister. Lyra rolled her eyes as he sat, looking away from him. Her glare deepened as she saw the sly grin on Marlene's face, her eyes mischievous as she regarded Sirius.

'And who were you talking to then?'

Sirius looked to Marlene and looked conflicted for a moment before saying, with an air of triumph, 'Oh, no one you should be too worried about.' He winked at Dorcas whose flush deepened a shade. His grin vanished however as he looked next to him and was met with Lyra's icy flat stare. 'What?'

She shook her head and looked out to the hills that were quickly becoming darker and more jagged as the train flew past them. She could still feel Sirius's eyes on her but her jaw was set firmly.

After a minute or two Marlene stood. 'Let's go Dee, I'm starving, that witch must be somewhere nearby.'

Dorcas, after casting more than a few unsure looks around the compartment, got up and followed Marlene out in search for the Trolley Lady.

The silence was almost palpable, but Lyra was determined. If she weren't so mad, she would have smirked when she felt the seat shift and saw Sirius sit down across from her.

'So are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to finally have a chance to see if I can do Legilimency?'

Lyra continued to stare out at the hills, which had now turned to shades of black and brown rather than the green it had been not so long ago.

'Lyra.'

'I just!' The next words died in her mouth when she looked at him. Despite his tone, he was frowning intently at her. 'I just don't think you should be picking fights is all,' she mumbled, picking at the sleeves of her jumper.

'I wasn't picking a fight!' Sirius said, affronted. Sighing, he leant back into the seat, running a hand roughly through his hair. 'It's not my fault half this school is full of absolute pricks.'

'Will you stop doing that!'

'Doing what?'

'Acting like everything is a joke! It's not Sirius!' Sirius' face fell. 'Things have changed,'

'You think I don't know that?' Sirius stood up so quickly that Lyra flinched. 'After everything that's happened over the last few weeks, Lyra, trust me, I know.'

He stood watching her, she had closed her eyes, her jaw set once more. He sat with a huff, realising that she was done talking.

Once she heard him sit down again, Lyra opened her eyes, looking at the floor by her brother's feet.

'Look,' Sirius said, leaning forward. 'I know we never really finished talking about what happened. But if you ever want to…'

'Do you?' She said, finally meeting his hardened look. He held it for a moment before sighing and looking out the window, not really seeing anything.

Until they were re-joined by the girls, and then later by James, Remus, Peter and Lily, the twins sat in silence, both seemingly intent on ignoring the other.

When the others arrived Sirius and Lyra immersed themselves in their own separate friendship groups. They ignored the pointed looks the others cast when they realised that Sirius and Lyra were indeed talking to everyone else but each other.

XXXXXXXXX

On the way into the Great Hall Sirius felt someone roughly knock into his shoulder. He looked around to see Rabastan Lestrange smirking with his friend, Tobias Nott, as they made their way over to the Slytherin Table.

He took a seat across from Remus and Lyra, making sure he had his back facing the Slytherins, Sirius scowled at Lyra as he heard a burst of snide laughter come from behind him.

The welcome back speeches were made, the first years sorted and the hat sung, albeit this year it's song wasn't as cheerful as it had been previously. But as he sat laughing with James and Peter he noticed that the two across the table were unusually quiet.

Remus was smirking along with everything Sirius and James said but it was clear that his attention was divided.

Lyra, her friends completely ignored by her, was inspecting the table, the silverware, the goblets, but her eyes would flicker to somewhere across the room every now and then. She would hastily return to inspecting the goods on the table after a few seconds.

Sirius turned slightly in his seat.

There, laughing amongst a group of his housemates, sat Regulus. Sirius could've growled, in fact he wasn't so sure he hadn't.

The boy had never once cared for them or anything that happened to them. They were better off without him, without their whole family. He made that clear when he tried to talk Sirius out of leaving that day. Sirius spun back around to tell this to Lyra but found that he was too late.

Remus had leant in closer to her, offering her a small smile.

'You okay?'

Lyra paused, seeming slightly stunned as if she had thought that she and Regulus were the only two people in the Hall. She quickly blinked away her shock.

'Yeah, yeah I'm fine.' She quickly turned away from Remus and the others, apparently suddenly very interested in whatever the other girls were talking about.

As the feast ended and everyone started to make their way back to their Common Rooms, Sirius watched his brother walk out of the Great Hall. Regulus seemed much more like a young boy than Sirius had ever known him to be.

 _Things have changed._

XXXX

The Gryffindor Common Room was quiet but for the last crackles of the dying fire. Everyone had long since gone up to their dormitories, eager to sleep the night away in hopes that the first day of classes would somehow arrive just that bit earlier. Everyone, that is, but for a black-haired, silver eyed girl who lay dozing on the plush lounge in front of the fire.

And as the embers of the fire sparked and sizzled, the girl let out a small moan, tossing, her features tightening.

 _'What did you say to me?'_

 _Never before had Lyra seen her father so angry. He seemed to tower over everything and everyone in the small room, taking up every facet of it. His wand was held tightly by his side, his knuckles white, skin taught._

 _Lyra silently pleaded with Sirius to just, for once, keep his mouth shut, to not rise to the bait. Her throat constricted painfully when Sirius stepped forward._

 _'You heard me you crazed-'_

 _With a deep growl, Orion Black seized Sirius shirt collar._

 _'No!' Lyra tried to step in between the two. She felt the tips of her fingers burn almost painfully but she balled them into fists, willing the sensation to retreat back within herself._

 _Orion hit her across her cheek with the back of his closed fist, she hit the end of her bed frame around the ribs and landed on the wooded floor with a gasp. Orion pulled his son towards the landing outside without so much as a backwards glance at his daughter who now lay bleeding behind him._

 _Lyra scrambled to her feet as Sirius started spitting curses at his father, swearing his rage at the pain done to his sister. Lyra took another desperate step towards him, holding her hands out for him when she was caught from behind._

 _'Sirius!'_

 _Her mother's strong grip around her middle had Lyra reeling backwards from Sirius' panicked face._

 _And then Sirius was calling out her name just as desperately as she was calling his._

 _'You've had this coming for a long time, boy!' Orion snarled as he finally managed to get to Lyra's bedroom door._

 _With one more almighty tug, Lyra momentarily broke free of her mother's hold. She only just managed to grab hold of Sirius's hand for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough._

 _The burning sensation from before came back with a vengeance and rolled from her fingertips in warm, powerful waves into Sirius' own hand._

 _He stared at her, eyes wide, mouth open as he shook his head ever so slightly at what she had just done for him. In return she managed to release a very watery, very bloody smile that she hoped passed as a reassuring one._

 _'No! Lyra!'_

 _And then they were separated again, and Sirius was pulled, screaming Lyra's name, from her room by their father whilst Lyra, sobbing, calling out to her brother, struggling in the vice-like grip of their mother. Then she felt the tip of a wand press deep into the side of her neck, she stopped struggling at once._

A door slammed shut, someone other than Sirius was calling out to her and her eyes flew open, she jumped from the lounge but two strong, rough hands gently stopped her.

'Woah!'

And then Remus was smiling down at her. They were in an empty Gryffindor Common Room, not her bedroom at Grimmauld Place, and it was Remus, not her parents, not Sirius, who knelt before her.

With a shaky breath, she flung herself into his arms and he embraced her just as strongly. When she pulled back she found him smiling softly, but there was worry in his eyes.

She stared at him, looking over every inch of his face, from the lightly coloured hair, to the soft eyes that were edged with amber, to every scar that marred his skin. She leaned into him and their lips met.

As she melted into him, into his touch and scent and skin she felt lighter than she had in months. In his arms she realised where she was and who she was there with.

'Welcome home, Lyra,' came Remus' voice when they finally pulled away from one another.

XXXXXXX

A single envelope waited for him on his bed when he trudged into his dormitory that night. After making sure no one had followed him into the room and that he was indeed alone, he opened it and read.

 _I have discussed your plan to my business partners. They agree with it's potential and have agreed that you should proceed._

 _They were impressed by your approach in this venture._

 _Be sure not to disappoint them._

 _It's almost time._

There was no name at the bottom, no address on the envelope, but Regulus knew who had sent it.

As he tossed the letter into the fire later that night he watched it curling in on itself, being pushed inwards by the flames surrounding it. He watched as the cream of the parchment became dark, became frayed and eventually, became nothing.

Even after it had become one with that which had destroyed it, after it had become completely indistinguishable from the blaze, Regulus kept watching.


	7. Chapter 7

***Edited as of 09.04.2017* *NEW CONTENT***

 **There's an added scene at the very beginning of this chapter, I realised that I said something at the end of chapter seven (I think) about Lily taking an interest in Lyra and that I hadn't really explored that yet.**

 **Please R+R!**

* * *

 _She had been so terribly wrong. There was something worse than the sound of Regulus' screams, so much worse._

* * *

Lyra came out of the bathroom, jar of pink salve in her hands. It was working, for the most part. Her stomach was still ghastly, thick dirty red scars standing up from her skin that prickled uncomfortably. She had started to resent her school uniform as the cotton would rub constantly against her wounds, making them itch and throb.

She'd taken to changing in the bathroom, the others didn't need to worry over her condition. She'd had enough worrying glances and words of comfort to last her a lifetime. She'd picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, ready to leave for breakfast when Lily noticed her.

'Lyra?'

Lyra let go of the door handle after a quick, soft sigh through her nose. Turning she found Lily standing in the middle of the room – the empty room, other than themselves. Lyra groaned internally as she forced a polite, questioning smile on her mouth.

Lily's nostrils were flaring and she was absentmindedly playing with the cuff of her shirt. Lyra's curiosity was suddenly sparked. But she still waited for Lily to speak. Assumptions lead only to trouble.

'I was wondering if you'd like to walk down to breakfast together?'

Not really as substantial as she was hoping for, but Lyra still nodded. 'Sure.'

They left the room and made their way down to the Common Room. Apart from a few stragglers, it was mostly deserted.

It wasn't till they were half way down the corridor, away from the Common Room, that Lily finally broke the silence.

'So, did you know about James?'

Lyra had to think for half a second about what she was referring to. 'Oh, you mean his being Head Boy?'

Lily nodded, a slight wince tugging at the corners of her eyes.

'Yeah, I was visiting him the day he got his letter.'

Lily nodded again and stayed silent. Obviously that's not really where she was hoping to take the conversation, but it was safe and Lyra wasn't about to steer her in a more dangerous direction.

'Are you okay with it?' Lyra asked. 'His being Head Boy, I mean?'

Perhaps this wasn't what Lily truly wanted to talk about but she became decidedly more animated. 'Well, look,' she fumbled for a moment. 'Would he be my first choice for Head Boy? Probably not. But I do admit that he's much more of a contender for it now than he would have been two years ago.'

Lyra smirked her agreement, a vision of Lily and James' infamous fight in the grounds after their OWL exams springing to mind. 'He'll try his best, I think.'

'Of that, I have little doubt.' Lily looked close to laughing, but not really wanting to. 'I mean, you should see all this stuff he brought to me last night! Charts and schedules and surveys for the students to fill out. I don't know where he found the time for it, I mean classes haven't even started yet!'

Lyra wasn't going to let Lily's uncertainty hold her back, she laughed as she envisioned James presenting Lily with a tower of parchment. 'Well, that's James for you. If you tell him to do something, he'll be sure to do it right, and to put all he has into it.'

Sirius had told her about how James hadn't even questioned the fact that they'd be staying with him from now on. For that Lyra would forever be grateful to James, to all the Potters.

'I heard …'

 _Here we go._ Lyra braced herself for the question.

'I heard that the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is supposed to be really good.'

Lyra knew. She knew that that was not what Lily was going to ask. A question about a new professor, however, was something she would gladly deal with.

When they reached the Great Hall, Lyra had expected Lily to go and sit with her other friends from other houses. What she didn't expect was for her to walk along the Gryffindor table beside Lyra and to sit to her right, as if sitting together at meal times was something they'd always done.

It wasn't.

But like so many things that happened lately, Lyra couldn't summon the strength to care, let alone to try and understand them. So she let Lily sit down, ignored the questioning glare being sent her way by Marlene who she'd sat across from, picked up the paper sitting in the middle of the table and started to read.

'What do you reckon happened to Samps?' Dorcas said from beside Marlene, obviously deciding to be the one to break the tension.

'Isn't is obvious? He retired, of course!'

'Oh come off it, he wasn't even that old. And besides, no one asked for your opinion!'

'You asked a question, I answered, that's how this socialising thing works. And _besides Marlene_ , no one ever asks for your opinion but that doesn't stop you!'

'I happened to be asking Lyra.'

'She's not even listening to you!'

From behind that day's copy of The Daily Prophet, Lyra's lips were pursed as she tried to focus on the article rather than the two girls opposite her.

It might have been a stretch to say that Marlene and Dorcas were best friends, but they usually got on better than this – and on the first day no less. They must have talked their way into an argument last night because they'd been in a downright foul mood all morning.

And they were starting to give Lyra a headache. Where was Lily when you needed her.

Her eyes narrowed however as she found that she kept looking up to the Head Table as well.

She hadn't noticed the new addition to the teaching staff the night before, but now that she had a chance she found herself surprised. The new teacher was very young, much younger than the other Professors. From what she remembered, he was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. It seemed that the fate of Professor Sampson – last year'ss Defence teacher – was up for debate.

From outward appearance, the two Professors couldn't have been more different. Where Sampson had had a long, unkempt beard and was so withered he stood in a permanent hunch, this newcomer was a great deal younger with shortly cropped hair and sat at the Head Table rather rigidly. He looked as if he couldn't have been out of school for very long, ten years at the most. His pale eyes roamed the Hall, taking in the long student-filled tables and the high ceiling that reflected the early morning's pink sky.

'Well everyone knows the only opinion of yours that truly matters are those about s-'

Lyra silently groaned, closing her eyes as the girl's ramblings cut through her thoughts. She looked back at the paper, trying to read the rest of the article whose subject matter she could no longer remember.

'Just because you can't get any, McKinnon …'

Lyra was just about to throw the paper down and tell them to shut up when something suddenly stopped her, several things in fact.

Feeling the side of her face warm a little she looked to her right, her eyes going straight to the Head Table where the new Dark Arts Professor sat still, not even hiding the fact that he was looking right at her. She didn't know what to make of it but he would not look away, his expression completely impassive. She was thankful for an excuse to look away as someone knocked into her as they sat down beside her.

'Sorry, Lyra,' James said reaching for the orange juice.

Lyra was about to check the Head Table again just as the sound of hundreds of wings came from above. She didn't bother looking for her owl, knowing that Aries had arrived at Hogwarts weeks before she had. It was for this reason that she jumped a little when a letter was dropped in front of her.

Everyone sitting around her stopped, their own letters falling unnoticed beside them. Lyra felt sick when she looked at the familiar cursive. Before reaching for it, she glanced up at Sirius and felt both relieved and a little frightened to note that he had no letter in front of him.

When she touched it, pulling it towards her, she did so with such caution the others couldn't help but feel nervous, it was like they were all waiting for it to explode. Lyra turned it over and was about to rip through the seal.

'Wait!' Sirius said suddenly.

Lyra looked at her brother for a moment nodding her reassurance to him, which he returned with just a touch of hesitation, his wide eyes moving back to the letter, watching intently as she tore it open in one fluid motion.

There was a collective sigh when nothing happened. But then she started reading and the others watched as the colour drained from her face. After a moment or two she held the letter out for Sirius to take. He snatched it from her trembling fingers and his face contorted in rage as he read.

Sirius spluttered profanities and suddenly started looking wildly about the Hall. His eyes suddenly fixated on something and he stood and stalked off.

'Sirius!?' Lily called after him. She looked back to Lyra who was staring blankly at the table. Lily looked up, about to ask what the hell was going on but James spoke the letter in his hands now.

'It's their mum,' James said, reading the letter as quick as he could. 'She's,' he paused, looking at the others. 'She's begging for Lyra's forgiveness.' He returned to the letter. 'She says that if Lyra reconciles with them now that all past transgressions will be forgotten. She vows that Lyra will be protected if she accepts their offer.' He paused again, unsuccessfully holding back a frustrated sigh. 'She also says that none of these terms apply to Sirius, that his actions can't be forgiven so easily.'

The others, who had fallen into a disbelieving stupor, all flinched and jumped when loud voices erupted from the next table.

'To hell with you, you insufferable little git!'

Sirius was standing across the table from Regulus, who was also standing. And every single person in the Great Hall at that moment realised that if it hadn't been for the table separating them, the two brothers would have already come to blows.

To his credit, Regulus was standing straight backed and proud, his expression of defiance firmly set. The feathering of his jaw was the only tell-tale sign of nervousness, and he had every right to be nervous. Everyone knew that, for all his joking and levity, Sirius Black was terrifying and had the potential to be extremely dangerous when pushed, all one had to do was see his mock duels in Defence Against the Dark Arts and the way his eyes flashed when he came across of group of Slytherins to know that.

The teachers who were still eating breakfast up at the Head Table were quick to their feet, Professor McGonagall taking the lead towards the boys.

Sirius was shaking as he whipped out his wand, everyone in the hall gasped, expecting Sirius to aim at his brother, but instead, Sirius pointed it towards the Gryffindor table. Mrs Black's letter flew from James' hand and soared to Sirius' waiting fist.

Sirius leant across the table, thrusting the crumpled letter into Regulus' chest, the impact of Sirius' clenched fist hitting his brother squarely in the chest sounded a loud _thunk_ throughout the Hall.

'You tell that _loathsome_ old slag,' Sirius shouted, his voice trembling from fury, 'that the only thing _her daughter_ needs to be protected from is _them_! And if they _ever_ come near her or me again, I will gladly repay them for their past kindness!' And with that, Sirius turned to his right, extended his arms wide in a mock bow and smiled at McGonagall who had reached him at last. 'Minnie!' Sirius called, with apparently no hint of his previous outburst. 'After you,' he said, bowing deeper still and ushering her past him, as soon as she passed, Sirius' ferocious glare returned and he stalked behind the enraged Professor from the Hall.

While Sirius followed McGonagall, Professor Galile, the Divination teacher, was quickly escorting Regulus from the Hall.

Those sitting at the Gryffindor table all slowly turned, silent, to Lyra. She was frowning at the spot her brothers had stood moments before, she shook slightly as James wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. He rubbed her arm gently, quietly telling her that it was going to be alright, but his voice was cut off by another.

'Miss Black.'

Professor Flitwick stood behind them, shuffling his feet slightly as he regarded the girl.

'I'm terribly sorry, Miss Black, but I am going to have to ask you to follow me.'

Lyra nodded her head numbly and rose from the table.

As she followed the little Professor, Lyra felt the back of her neck heat up. She looked behind her as she exited the Hall to find Professor Antone looking right back at her, an expression she was afraid to interpret enflaming his eyes.

So focussed was she on Antone, she didn't notice Rabastan Lestrange looking at her with a terrifying cold grin curling around his face.

XXXX

Sirius was still shaking as he pushed himself further into the seat in Professor McGonagall's office. The thought of his brother, no doubt sitting smugly in the chair next to him was more than enough to fuel his anger.

The door to the office opened, then closed and suddenly Lyra took the seat on Sirius' left. He didn't look at her, instead he ground his teeth, not letting his eyes stray from his favourite Professor who, at the present moment, looked downright murderous.

'Now I realise that certain events have occurred over the most recent holidays that have caused a rift to form between the three of you,' she said, her nostrils flaring, 'but that does not give you any excuse to begin rioting within the halls of this school! As students of Hogwarts it is expected that you act in a manner befitting both your age and your education.'

While her attention had previously been separated between the three of them, McGonagall now focussed solely on the two boys. 'If I hear of another outburst, of any un-pleasantries of any kind, no matter how small or discreet, that take place between any of you, you will face much more serious consequences than the ones you are facing right now.' She sighed and leant back in her chair. 'You will all be receiving separate detentions – Mr Black,' she said, looking this time to Regulus, 'I will talk to Professor Slughorn who will inform you of the details – and I wouldn't rule out the possibility of Professor Dumbledore wanting to talk to you all as well in the coming days.'

Sirius shot from his chair. 'But Lyra-!'

McGonagall rose with speed Sirius would never have expected to see from her, she slammed her open palms on the table top. 'Enough, Mr Black!'

Sirius took half a step back.

'You and Mr Black are free to go, you will both go straight to your first lessons and if I hear that you have made even the slightest detour than you will be back here explaining yourself to the Headmaster.'

Sirius opened his mouth again.

'I wish to speak to Miss Black privately.' Her tone was final and Sirius knew it. He swept from the room, knuckles deathly white.

Regulus rose slowly from his chair. He didn't acknowledge anyone as he left. It was only after she had heard the door close that Lyra noticed that Regulus had placed something on McGonagall's table, a crumpled piece of parchment, fine cursive writing peeking through.

McGonagall retook her seat with a long, drawn out, tired sigh. She looked at Lyra for a moment, taking in the paleness of her skin, the deep crease of her forehead.

'The Potter's contacted us throughout the holidays, Miss Black,' she said, her voice soft now that they were alone. 'We are aware of how you came to spend the last few days with them but as of yet are unaware of the why.'

She waited for a response from Lyra, maybe she was hoping for an explanation, but none ever came so she continued.

'You will be reporting to Professor Dumbledore for your detention.'

Lyra's head shot up at this, McGonagall raised her hands.

'Not for punishment, my dear, but merely for a discussion. If you wish you may simply spend the time in silence. If I know the Headmaster, he will not push you for information, but it could be beneficial for you to offer it. If there is one person who can help you, Miss Black, it is Albus Dumbledore.' She waited again. 'Do you understand?'

Lyra's brain was telling her that she was nodding, yet she couldn't feel it, she was struggling to feel anything but the burning in her fingertips.

'Very well,' McGonagall said, 'you are free to leave. Straight to your first lesson, if you please,' she warned as Lyra rose.

Lyra neither noticed nor cared if McGonagall saw what she did next.

As she left the office, she finally felt something. She felt a single tear trail down her cheek, along with the coarseness of the crumpled piece of parchment in her fist.

When she was finally free of the office, of prying eyes, when she had reached the security of an empty corridor, she let the flood gates in her fingers open and she did not have to look down to know that the tips of her fingers were glowing. Still walking, she let go of the letter and it rose to float in front of her face, it uncurled before her eyes and with a mere twitch of her fingers that were still by her side, the letter burst into flames.

The last thing Lyra read were the words _come home, my daughter._ She flexed her hands when there was nothing left and made her way to the fifth floor.

As she cleared the corridor a figure stepped out from behind a statue. Their eyes trailed after her, as if they could see through the stone walls to where she walked. The figure's lips curled, their eyes hungry as they slunk back down the corridor in the opposite direction.


	8. Chapter 8

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **For the life of me I couldn't figure out what I wanted to add to this chapter. The chapters have been working their way up to about 4500-5000 words a chapter so in comparison this one is quite short. But I liked the pacing of this chapter too much to really add anything to it.**

 **Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

 _'Everything anyone has ever done has been done in the name of family_.'

* * *

As instructed, Sirius went straight to his first lesson and arrived at the fifth-floor corridor classroom well before anyone else had even left breakfast. He threw himself into a chair to the side of the room and let a calm fury overwhelm him as he sat still and silent.

The contents of the letter kept flashing through his mind. He heard his mother's simpering, false voice, _terribly worried … hasn't been the same without you ... please come home._ Sirius ground his teeth. He knew he should feel bad about causing such a scene in front of so many people, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

If he ever saw his parents again, he wouldn't even try to hold back his rage.

So caught up in trying to ignore the echoes of his mother's voice, Sirius jumped slightly as the classroom's doors banged opened. Lyra entered and as she did, something suddenly changed.

The room, which had been slightly stuffy, due to the many months of the classroom's disuse, became heavier, the air turning thick. As Lyra moved through the room something else in the air changed. It was now not only heavy but, hot somehow, no, not hot, more like it sizzled.

Lyra's face was stone-like, she took a seat two rows behind Sirius on the opposite side of the room. She couldn't have been further away.

She didn't look at him, didn't even attempt to acknowledge him in any way. Indeed Sirius was sure Lyra had not even noticed that he was there at all. She sat, her hands gripped together as she stared into the blackboard at the front of the room.

Sirius watched his normally calm sister frown at her own thoughts, a muscle in her jaw feathering every so often, but the more he watched, the more uncomfortable he became. He had started absentmindedly scratching his arm. He'd only just noticed how red his skin had become when the itch turned painful. He tried not to panic but that became all the more difficult when Lyra unclasped her hands and ran them through her hair, pulling them back to reveal glowing fingertips.

'Lyra!'

Lyra whipped around to face him, eyes wide, confirming Sirius' suspicions about her not realising there was anyone else in the room. Quickly, after giving her brother a once over, she blinked. And a rush of cool air swept through the room, instantly easing Sirius' pain.

Lyra's eyelids stuttered before she looked back to the front of the room. 'Sorry.'

'Lyra, look.'

But the sound of growing chatter stopped Sirius and he too twisted in his seat to face the front.

XXXXXX

It was like having your head underwater. She could see everything around her, yet the images were distorted, they seemed to ripple and it was hard to focus, to gain any sort of clarity. She heard voices around her, but they were muffled, she couldn't make out anything but their tone.

But she wasn't allowed to let all of that simply wash over her, she couldn't simply close her eyes, breathe in deeply and sink into blissful unawareness and tranquil confusion. Because she _was_ aware of a handful of facts that pulled on her shoulders, away from the promise of peaceful obliviousness.

She knew that she already had detention before the first class of the year had even begun. She knew that she would not be allowed to merely sit quietly in Dumbledore's office while the old Professor went about the daily routines involved in running a boarding school full of underage witches and wizards. The Headmaster was suspicious enough of her already, Lyra doubted that he'd pass up such an easy opportunity to interrogate her.

But the one thing Lyra knew above all else was that she would never be going back to the place she had grown up in ever again.

She flexed her fingers as they gently throbbed. Students began rushing into the class and taking their seats.

Hiding her hands under the table, she made a point not to look up. The feeling of eyes she couldn't see was enough to deter her from lifting her gaze to try and meet them.

No, even if she had wanted to, Sirius would never allow her to return to Grimmauld Place. _Did she want to?_ Of course didn't, she couldn't after what they'd done to her, to Sirius.

But they weren't the only ones in that house.

Lyra had thought too much about Regulus in the past few weeks. Every thought she'd had, no matter how seemingly disconnected, would painfully circle back to her younger brother and the fact that they had left him. No, not left, Regulus would not have chosen to come with them. Regulus wouldn't have seen it as escape, rather Lyra had no doubt that Regulus would have seen it as desertion.

Lyra stretched her fingers and glanced discreetly down at them. The throbbing had subsided. Plain, slightly red skin peered back up at her. It looked as if she'd just washed her hands rather thoroughly.

A sharp cough sounded through the room. There was something about it, a sharp edge to it that made everyone pause. Lyra looked up to see the young Professor from breakfast standing at the front of the room. His cold, detached eyes skimmed the tops of the students.

Lyra hoped that she was imagining the way the Professors eyes paused almost unperceivably on her.

She hadn't known the class she was walking into after she'd come from McGonagall's office. Somewhere in the far reaches of her mind the part that was still dutifully focussed on school and study had steered her to the third floor. She hadn't taken any notice of what class was going to be held there. Now with a sharp ache developing in her head, she remembered.

Defence Against the Dark Arts. Her least favourite subject.

After he was sure that there was not a sound to be heard in the room the Professor began in a low, measured tone.

'For those of you whose attention may have slipped during last night's introductions,' his pale eyes flickered momentarily to James and Sirius who simply smirked back – well Sirius did, James, it seemed, was trying to appear studious before the new Professor. Sirius tried not to notice this as he watched the man at the front of the room. 'my name is Professor Antone and I am here to expose your minds to the existence and dangers of the Dark Arts within the wider community. Now while this fact seems to be becoming more commonplace, considering the current climate, it is imperative that its significance doesn't slip. The Dark Arts is forever changing, forever evolving and it is constantly trying to improve itself – expanding its applications.'

Sirius wasn't smirking anymore.

'In a few short months you will all leave the comfort of school and will have to face reality. It is this transition that often poses the greatest risk to those who have become accustomed to the safety and convenience and … predictability of most education structures.' He paused and looked about the room. Sirius did too, finding that the majority of the class were sitting straight-backed and wide-eyed in their chairs.

Antone had their full attention, and he knew it. He smirked slightly. 'Fortunately for you, your headmaster has seen fit to employ _me_ so that I may teach you how to overcome the things you will face. A blade is only as sharp as the scabbard it is kept in allows it to be. The same is true for a wizard and his wand. A wand will only ever be as powerful as the hand that holds it. That is why I am here, to make sure your blade is as sharp as it can be.'

It was as if the class had stopped breathing, but Sirius had stopped listening. He was too busy reliving his wrist being held in a painful grip, of a strong, disgusting smell pushing its way up his nose and of a grating voice, a voice he had blissfully forgotten about until now.

 _'I get the scabbard but not the blade, how disappointing.'_

He narrowed his eyes at the young Professor, a tight feeling settling deep in his stomach.

XXXX

'Well, I must say I was expecting something … more.'

They were making their way to dinner that night and the sentiment expressed by Peter was no doubt shared by the rest of the Marauders given the expression on each of their faces.

'I know!' Sirius couldn't help but feel as if Hogwarts had failed to deliver something, some spectacularly unforgettable show, that had somehow gone forgotten, or worse, had been purposefully ignored. 'I mean, I was expecting all the lectures about how this year is going to be "the hardest year yet" and how we should all start studying now, but honestly! They must have handed the same speech out to every teacher to memorise.'

'I feel like I've wasted a complete day of my life,' James sighed devastatingly. 'There's twelve hours I'll never get back.'

'Well that Antone bloke's speech was different enough.'

'You can say that again, Pete.'

Peter broke into a grin as James slapped him on the back.

'Although.' A look Sirius couldn't quite place flared in James' eyes briefly. 'I'm not sure quite how to feel about him. I mean, his speech was great if not a bit …'

'Terrifying?' Remus offered.

All four boys nodded silently.

'What do we actually know about him, anyway?' Sirius asked.

'Well, he doesn't look too old, he might have gone to Hogwarts?'

'With that accent, James? It didn't sound familiar to me.'

'Okay, then he could have gone to any number of schools, I remember that there's that one in Bulgaria. Did he sound Bulgarian?'

'Who cares what school he went to,' Sirius waved a dismissive hand. 'What I want to know is what he's been doing since then. The way he talked, it didn't sound like he's come straight from being a student.'

'His speech was very dark.'

'Exactly, Pete!' Sirius looked straight ahead, picturing the man's dark eyes grow impossibly darker as he talked about the threats that were waiting for them beyond Hogwarts' borders. 'You can't talk about things that serious unless you've experienced some of it for yourself.'

They'd reached the staircase that lead into the Entrance Hall and students were piling in from all directions, all of them heading to the Great Hall for dinner. From his place on the stairs Sirius spotted Lyra and Dorcas making their way in from the grounds, they must have just finished Care of Magical Creatures.

He was glad to see that Lyra was smiling. Looking after animals had always calmed her down, Sirius suspected it was because she could get caught up in the animal meanwhile forgetting everything that might be bothering her at the time.

Sirius gave her an irritated look that went unnoticed. Yes, Lyra Black, that's what you do best isn't it? Ignore your problems in the hope that they'll figure themselves out.

Well Sirius was through ignoring things, he was finished with it.

And as if on cue, as if Hogwarts had heard him, a group of Slytherin's appeared trudging up the stairs from the dungeons. It seemed that Hogwarts was scoffing at Sirius saying _don't ignore things, aye? Prove it._

The Entrance Hall crowd was thinning quickly and by the time the Marauders were halfway across the Hall they were almost level to the Slytherins. The two groups would have to bottleneck in order to enter the Great Hall.

Just before they got into view of all those already eating in the hall beyond, Sirius moved so quickly that there were echoes of alert from the two groups. But it didn't matter, Sirius already had his brother up against the nearest wall. One arm pushing the youngers chest, pinning him to the wall, the other hand holding a wand to Regulus' chin, its tip glowing an angry red.

'I'll say this just once more, in case you missed it this morning whilst you were shitting your pants.' Sirius couldn't see what the others were doing, he didn't care, the world was dark around them, all that mattered was the tip of Sirius' wand and the slightly wide eyes of Regulus. 'Stay away from Lyra or I swear to everything in this world, you will regret it.'

The dark turned burning red as Regulus smirked.

'Well that's up to her, isn't it?'

A rage of fury rushed through Sirius' ears so that he couldn't hear the pleading calls of Remus or the snide threats being thrown around by the others.

'This is going to be my only warning, you do anything to hurt her, to bring any sort of harm to her whatsoever, I will gladly show you all the love Mother and Father have shown us, in all it's forms.'

In the flash of a moment, Regulus' smirk crinkled into something like a grimace. Sirius recognised this look, having seen it the night Sirius left with Lyra, when Lyra was covered in blood and dying on Sirius' bed.

Sirius shoved himself away from Regulus and made his way to the Great Hall, not caring to dig himself through that red that had consumed the world.

'It's over!' He called over his shoulder before he passed into the Great Hall. He looked over to the Gryffindor table and stopped dead in his tracks.

Lyra was looking right at him and he had never seen her so angry.


	9. Chapter 9

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **Everyone's favourite chapter ... Like, you have no idea how many more hits this chapter gets compared to those on either side of it ... Why do you guys love it so much? (I mean, I have a pretty good guess*cough*cutenessfactorisprettydamnhigh*cough* but I would love it know anyways)**

* * *

 _'She'd say yes you know.'_

* * *

'How long are you going to keep this going?'

Remus and Lyra were lounging in the shade of a tree out near the lake. They'd found each other here a while ago. Well Lyra was already here and Remus hadn't so much found her rather than sought her out, which hadn't really taken that much effort since he'd had the map and all.

Remus had woken to strong sunlight pressing its way into the dormitory window. The room was quiet and quite empty. James and Sirius were no doubt already down at the Quidditch pitch.

Harold Davies, a sixth-year Gryffindor who had recently become the new Quidditch captain had scheduled try outs for that afternoon. He'd assured James that he needn't try-out for the team – James had been on the team since second year, a fact he'd tell anyone with ears – but James insisted. He'd later told Remus that it'd be good to show the younger Chaser hopefuls how the position should be played.

Peter's bed had been empty as well. He probably tagged along with the other two who, Remus vaguely remembered, had promised to help the boy with his flying skills.

After Remus had dragged himself out of bed, went down to breakfast, helping himself to an extra helping of sausages seeing as the Great Hall was practically deserted, and made sure his homework was up to date, it was barely even ten o'clock.

But then he remembered that he still had the Marauders Map in his bag. The boys had all agreed that, out of the four of them, the map would be safest with Remus over the holidays. He dug it out and began searching for the only name he wanted to see.

Now he lay on his side, propped up by his elbow, watching Lyra lay in the grass reading quietly. Remus' own book lay forgotten beside him, instead he'd taken to watching the grounds, the students who'd chosen to take advantage of the weather as well. Off in the distance he could just make out the tops of the Quidditch posts. Every so often a figure on a broomstick would fly around one of the posts before quickly dipping and disappearing again.

It was this sight that had lead Remus to thinking about Sirius and the twin's on-going silent treatment in the first place. The twins hadn't spoken in a whole week. It may very well have been the longest they'd gone without talking. The only other time that even came close to this streak was back in fifth year when … No, he wouldn't think about that now, he'd made himself a promise.

He was sure Sirius was going to approach Lyra after dinner that night he'd confronted Regulus, but Sirius had just averted his gaze and given his sister a wide birth. And Remus didn't blame Sirius for being a little scared of her. She had been so enraged that the ring of pure silver which circled her irises had seemed to glow, no they seemed to burn, white hot flames in a raging storm.

Lyra flipped another page of her book.

'Clearly he doesn't want to hear anything that I have to say, so why should I talk to him at all?'

'Of course he wants to hear what you have to say.'

'Maybe, but he never listens to me anyway so I really don't see the point in it. I asked him not to start fights and a day later he's attacking people, and not just anyone, but Regulus! Regulus!' She'd dropped her book and was now staring up at the tree canopy.

Remus rolled over so he was being propped up by his forearms. Lyra had a hand resting on her stomach and Remus felt the familiar feeling of panic flare, as it so often did whenever Lyra's stomach was involved. He knew that there was nothing to worry about, she'd healed, she was fine and that's simply where her arm had fallen, but still the panic remained.

Remus blinked. 'But that's not all that's going on between the two of you, is it?'

She turned to him, frowning a little. Remus inhaled.

'I _may_ have overheard the two of you a few weeks ago at the Potters.'

Her frown deepened.

'You were talking about some dinner or something,' his voice trailed off, he didn't know how much he should admit to. He _really_ wanted to ask more questions, but then she'd know just how much he'd heard and she was still sore from whatever it was that was going on between her and Sirius.

But Lyra simply sighed in annoyance, turning from him and closing her eyes.

'Sirius is just being paranoid, as per usual.'

Neither of them said anything for a moment or two. They just let the sounds of the students laughing, the gentle splashing of the Giant Squid in the lake off in the distance, wash over them.

'I'm sorry,' came Lyra's voice. 'I know you hate it when we fight.'

Remus snorted and moved closer to her side. 'The whole castle hates it when the two of you fight.'

A smile erupted on to her face when she opened her eyes to find him leaning over her.

'Well it's a good thing that not _everyone_ seems too upset then.'

Remus pretended to be affronted as he slowly lowered his face to meet hers. 'If you're talking about me then I'll have you know that I … am … very … very … upset.' He pressed short kisses to her lips, cheeks, forehead between the words.

'If you say so,' Lyra giggled at his attention, which had grown now that he'd stopped speaking.

Remus grinned and gently bit a spot on her neck he knew would get a response from. He wasn't disappointed as Lyra gave a small squeal of delight, hitting his chest.

'Remus, what do you think you're doing? Not here!'

'Why not?' He mumbled into her skin.

'Because,' Remus couldn't help but let out a huff of satisfaction when he heard how breathless she'd become. 'Because there are kids around! What if someone sees?'

He pulled himself away from her so that he could look straight into her eyes. Those silver pools positively swimming, the rings sparkling up at him.

'Well that's their fault for being rude little voyeurs now, isn't it?'

She playfully glared up at him, her lips twisting slightly – a tell-tale sign that she was trying to hold in a smile – before he captured them with his own.

What he wouldn't give to be frozen in this moment forever. From the little slips of sunlight warming his back, to the soft breeze swirling around them, to Lyra underneath him, her hands in his hair. It was perfection, totally, completely.

Or it would have been if a twig hadn't snapped from somewhere in the forest behind them that had both of them pulling back and looking into the shadowy undergrowth.

Lyra was the first to look away, she patted Remus' chest. 'It's probably just an animal.'

Remus nodded but didn't look away. Now that he focussed, he swore he could hear something, almost like –

'Remus!'

He looked down at her.

She patted his chest again, pushing a little this time.

'Come on, I better get going, I'm sure I was supposed to meet the girls for lunch.'

He rolled over and watched Lyra get up. She bent down and gave him a chaste kiss. 'I'll see you later.'

He watched her until she was out of sight before he turned back to the forest, trying to find that sound again. But it was gone.

XXXXXX

That was close. He shouldn't have been that near to the edge of the forest in the first place but it was as if he felt something pulling him towards her. Or rather something about _her_ that was calling out to _him_. He could feel the magical energy rolling off her in intense waves and she wasn't even trying!

He was almost giddy thinking about what she would be able to do if she were to harness that power.

His elation had turned into molten fury when the boy leaned in to her. And he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from screaming when the distance between them disappeared completely. He didn't even realise that he'd taken a step towards them until the twig under his foot snapped. Quickly stepping back, he'd tried to calm his breathing, very aware that both teenagers were now peering into the forest.

She was the first to dismiss it but the boy wasn't so quick.

There was something about the boy, it was as if he could actually _hear_ him, he could practically see the boy's ears prick up. As quietly as he could, he took another step back into the forest, and then another, and another, until he was far enough away that he simply turned and walked away freely.

The worry of being discovered dissipated but the fury, the fury remained, it was a volcanic river rampaging through his veins. And he knew the one thing that would calm it.

XXXXXX

It had been a week. Lyra had never noticed how long a week could last.

Amongst the ever-growing mountain of work from her classes, her apprehension about her upcoming detention with Dumbledore and dealing with Lily Evans's sudden new interest in becoming Lyra's friend, Lyra assumed she wouldn't have to go out of her way to ignore Sirius.

But she'd been so very wrong. She supposed it would have been a lot harder if Sirius' hadn't been avoiding her as well.

Maybe Remus was right. _Of course Remus is right._ Maybe Sirius would listen to her now, now that she'd had enough time to figure out what she was going to say, well she would when she eventually found him.

Which in itself was proving a challenge. She'd searched the Common Room, had asked Remus to check the Boys dormitory, she'd gone down to the Great Hall and even went down to the kitchens where she wouldn't leave until she'd had a cup of hot chocolate. Finally she found him in the Library, it being the only place she hadn't checked yet.

Even when she _had_ entered the Library it had taken her another five minutes just to find him. She'd searched every dark corner, every hidden crevice and sure enough there he was, back hunched over a table and his head firmly planted in an enormous tome.

'There you are! I've boon looking for you everywhere!' She plonked down into a chair as he looked up.

She had planned to act nonchalantly, as if they had never stopped talking in the first place, but then she noticed the way he'd jumped when she spoke and the way he oh-so-casually placed his arms on the book he'd been frowning down at seconds before. She took in his expression and the way he now forced out a leisurely smile.

Her face fell.

'What's going on?'

'We haven't talked in days and those are the first words you choose to say to me?'

'Cut it out.' And as quickly as she could, she leant forwards, grabbing for the book but Sirius was quicker. Leaning back into her chair, Lyra crossed her arms over her chest, raised a brow, quirking an eyebrow.

With a twitch of the fingers the thick tome slid across the table, coming to rest open in front of her. She glanced down at it to see pages covered in complicated diagrams filled in with countless dates and complicated names. Flipping it over to the cover, she read the peeling gold letters aloud.

' _A Comprehensive Guide to Britain's most Ancient Wizarding Houses._ ' Nerves squirmed inside her as she lifted her gaze to look at Sirius. He didn't return her look. 'You know, I'm actually afraid to ask.'

He scoffed, his nerves seemed to dissipate as he reclined into his chair. 'And you call _me_ dramatic.'

'Yes, I do,' she said, pointing to the book. 'But this is being said from the voice of experience.' All she got in response was an eye-roll.

Returning to the book, she flipped through its worn pages. The majority were laden with large, intricate family trees. Some were dedicated purely for explaining the history of a certain family, others had been set aside in order to explain just how everyone within a particular family was connected to one another.

'Didn't you have your fill of this when we were younger?' She mumbled, briefly skimming over a page entitled _The Most Ancient and Their Significance: The Sacred Twenty-Eight_.

'What, can't I have a renewed interest in something?'

Lyra merely looked at him blankly. Then she spotted another, smaller, much older looking book, on the table next to Sirius. She reached out to pull it quickly towards her but as she did Sirius reached for it too.

In their haste, the book was accidentally knocked to the floor. It landed with a dull _thud_ and Lyra – after throwing a bewildered look across the table – bent to pick it up.

A piece of parchment – much too smooth to have come from the book's binding – was sticking out from one of the pages.

Seeing this, Sirius went to grab for it again, but Lyra was prepared this time and got their first.

'Lyra, wait. Lyra don't!'

Ignoring his pleas, Lyra extracted the parchment, unfolded it and started to read.

She recognised the handwriting immediately, as well as the name written next to _'Dear'_ at the top.

'Uncle Alphard?'

Sirius' mouth was working like a fish out of water, opening and closing silently.

'Why are you writing to Uncle Alphard? We haven't spoken to him in … well … have we ever spoken to him?'

Realising that Sirius wasn't going to be offering any sort of explanation, she returned to the letter. As she read she felt the muscles in her face slacken and the tight feeling in her stomach – the feeling that had been ever present for so very long now – swelled suddenly, like a heavy rock dropped into still water.

'I can explain.' Sirius had found his voice.

'I don't think you can, actually.' She tried to keep her voice from trembling with anger and frustration. 'But give it your best shot.'

Sirius hesitated for a fraction of a second, not missing the underlying threat that lurked under her words. 'Look I know you think I'm being paranoid and that I'm making too much out of this.'

Lyra had to resist the urge to nod in whole-hearted agreement and simply settled for pursing her lips as Sirius went on.

'But I'm not like you, Lyra! I can't just forget about what happened, and I know,' he said quickly, catching the look on her face, 'I know you wish that I could. But I know I'm right about this on some level.'

There was something he wasn't telling her. She knew there was. Call it a twin thing, but she could always tell when there was something bothering her brother, except usually she knew what it was. This time though, she couldn't say how she knew, but she knew, he was only telling her half of whatever it was that stirred his worry.

She could only watch as he leaned further across the table, lowering his voice. 'Something had Mother scared that night. She was far too quiet. If it were different than she would've joined in, would've been egging me on as well.'

Lyra could feel her resolve crack, little fissures running through old weathered stone. She unfolded her arms that had suddenly grown strangely heavy and placed them in her lap. It wasn't as if she hadn't noticed how quiet their Mother had been that night. Usually – even if she did choose to keep on the quiet side – she would've at least made the effort to sneer at her eldest children, especially if it was being done in agreement when someone else was pointing out all their various faults. But, as reluctant as she was to admit it, Lyra couldn't deny the fact that their Mother's attitude that night had unnerved her more than a little. She _had been_ too quiet, too pale, her eyes too wide, her answers too metallic.

'That doesn't prove anything,' Lyra tried to say in a strong, sure voice, but Sirius wasn't having any of it.

'It doesn't disprove anything either.'

'That still doesn't explain why you're sending letters to Alphard.'

'Well it's not like I can waltz into Rosier Estate and simply ask Madam Rosier exactly what she was talking about that night. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to invite me inside so we can discuss the matter over a nice cup of tea.'

'And you think Alphard might know something we don't?'

'What _do_ we know, Lyra? I mean, apart from the obvious,' he said, waving a dismissive hand in her direction. He didn't acknowledge her raised eyebrow as he leant back in his chair. 'It's worth a try. We weren't around back then, he was, he could know something.'

'You really believe these rumours, don't you?' She wasn't too sure she wanted to know the answer but the question was out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop it.

Sirius looked at her with a hard expression for a moment. She wondered if he was trying to decide how honest he should be. 'I don't know.' His voice was just as hard as his brow-line. 'But the more I think about it, the more plausible it becomes.'

Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose, cursing the ability her twin had in stirring up her sense of curiosity, a sense she usually tried to quell. Curiosity only landed a person in trouble, or in Sirius' case in twice as much trouble along with a fair amount of danger.

But listening to him now had everything she'd ever heard about the rumours surrounding their Mother's first pregnancy came boiling back.

She sighed. 'Fine, but I don't want to hear any more about it.' Merlin knew she had plenty of other things to worry about.

'Deal,' Sirius said, getting up from the table, folding the letter up and tucking it away in the pocket of his robe. He flicked his wrist and the books flew back to whatever shelf they'd been pulled from.

Lyra, too stood and together the twins rounded walked away from the table. They rounded a corner past the row of shelves they'd been sitting near and almost stopped dead in their tracks. Lyra felt Sirius' jab of fear and anger shiver down her own spine.

The table only had one occupant, their back was to them and they appeared to be immersed fully in a potions text book. But there was no misplacing them, the thin, lithe frame, the head of smooth, dark hair, the robes embossed with Slytherin green.

Sirius scowled immediately and made to start towards them but was pulled away. Lyra didn't let go of his arm until they'd left the Library.

'What if he heard?' He growled at her, looking behind him as if he was expecting Lestrange to be tailing them.

'What if he did?' Lyra snapped. 'I think you've started enough fights with the Slytherins already, don't you?'

Sirius almost groaned at that, realising that, of course, this little rift between them was still open a fraction. They still hadn't mentioned Regulus.


	10. Chapter 10

***Edited as of 09.04.2017* *NEW CONTENT***

 **Changed a little bit at the end of this one. A lot of what I've written happens after Hogwarts so I'm trying not to rush the time the guys have whilst they're actually at Hogwarts so I've decided to delay a few things from happening.**

 **Please R+R**

* * *

 _'No. I'm sure you've noticed by now, but things between Dumbledore and Lyra are somewhat tense. I don't know why. I don't think anyone knows why.'_

* * *

It took a while for Lyra to figure out what was making her so anxious Monday morning. In fact it wasn't until she sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast that realisation came in the form of a small bit of parchment, handed to her by a tight-lipped Professor McGonagall, who merely nodded curtly before walking on.

Lyra watched her approach Sirius who was sitting a little way down the table. It looked like he was being handed an invitation to a highly prestigious party. He smiled graciously up at McGonagall. Lyra even heard him joke that he would be honoured to attend and that he would be awaiting its arrival with baited breath. As soon as McGonagall's back was to him, however, Sirius threw the parchment onto the table and scowled after her.

Looking back down at her own slip of parchment, Lyra found the time and place, along with instructions on how to get to Dumbledore's office, printed in neat script. Below the details was a single word, scrawled almost as if it was an after-thought. _Droobles_. She guessed that this was the password to his office … Dumbledore's office.

Her stomach plummeted.

For six years she had successfully avoided one-on-one interactions with her Headmaster. Normally this feat wouldn't be all that special what with Hogwarts being a fairly large school and the fact that Dumbledore didn't actually teach a class, but with having Sirius as a brother, she had to count herself lucky that she'd never been caught up in his drama. And now it was all useless.

'What's that?'

Lyra looked up to Marlene who had just taken a seat across from her. The blonde reached for a slice of toast buttering it, all the while trying to get at the proper angle to see what was written on the slip still in Lyra's hands.

'Detention,' was all Lyra said, going back to her own breakfast, being careful to avoid Marlene's eyes.

Thankfully, Marlene didn't say anything more about it, not that the topic she brought up next was much better.

'So apparently someone was spotted down by the lake on Saturday canoodling with one Remus Lupin.'

Lyra choked on her pumpkin juice, she hurriedly tried to mask it by feigning a sneezing fit. One look at Marlene's face told her that the rouse hadn't worked.

'I never picked you as the type to be interested in gossip,' Lyra said in what she hoped was an off-hand kind of voice.

'Normally you'd be right, but it's always good to know what's going on around here.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Especially when it involves someone I know.'

'Well I'm sure Remus will be touched to know you're thinking of him.'

Marlene looked caught somewhere between wanting to narrow her eyes even further and smirking, the resultant expression had Lyra grinning into her goblet.

Marlene had, for months, suspected that there was something going on between Lyra and Remus. And, if she were to be honest with herself, she didn't think she'd mind all that much if Marlene were to find out about them, but she was enjoying the peace and quiet of their relationship too much to let it slip. What she had with Remus was easy and that's what she wanted, what she needed right now.

'Alright, answer me this then,' Marlene said with renewed determination, 'why is half of Slytherin table looking right at you?'

As discreetly as she could, Lyra turned to look over her right shoulder, scanning the far table before quickly looking away again. 'I don't think a single student is the same as half the table,' she deadpanned to Marlene.

Marlene waved her off. 'Might as well be. That's a pretty intense look, Lyra.'

'Sirius has probably done something to piss him off.'

'So he's glaring at _you_?'

'Maybe he's getting confused. With the rate Sirius' hair is growing, I wouldn't be completely surprised at him getting us mixed up.'

Marlene snorted, not convinced. She raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in Lestrange's direction, a small and – to Lyra's horror – somewhat flirtatious smile toying around her mouth.

'Stop that!' Lyra reached across and grabbed her hand, pulling it down to the table. Desperately trying to steer the conversation to one a little safer, Lyra asked, 'What classes have you got today?'

With an eye-roll Marlene scrambled through her bag for a moment before extracting her timetable. Giving it a quick scan she said, 'Arithmancy first, Charms after that, so we'll be back together before you know it!'

'Joy,' Lyra muttered, which earnt her a playful shove.

'We don't have Defence Against the Dark Arts till Wednesday.'

Even though this news brought her great pleasure, Lyra tried to conceal it by choosing not to say anything at all. Their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson hadn't involved much wand work, much to her relief, but the speech their new Professor had delivered hadn't exactly filled her with a great deal of comfort. She doubted that this was how all their future lessons would go. If Professor Antone's words were anything to go by, Lyra foresaw Defence being particularly wand-reliant. The last thing she needed right now was putting copious amounts of effort into the restraint she knew she'd be forced to exercise if her fears about the class were realised.

What's more is that she wasn't too keen on their new teacher anyway. There was something about him that made her wary. She'd only half-tried bringing this up with Marlene and Dorcas after their first lesson because all she'd got from them were dreamy sighs.

'I don't care what he's teaching, just so long as he's within eyesight,' Marlene had said with Dorcas beside her, nodding furiously in agreement. Apparently having seen the Professor up close and listening to his smooth, confident voice, had been enough to change Dorcas' mind about him.

'Where's Dorcas?' Lyra hadn't seen her at all morning, her bed being empty when Lyra had awoken.

Marlene pointed over Lyra's left shoulder. Lyra turned and saw Dorcas laughing quite enthusiastically next to Terence Abbott at the Hufflepuff table.

'I told her to give up on him,' Marlene said when Lyra turned back, 'but she's determined.'

'Doesn't he have a girlfriend?'

'Yeah, but try telling her that.'

Lyra shook her head. There was one thing Dorcas Meadows was above all others and that was stubborn, try telling her something she didn't want to hear and you may as well be speaking in gobbledegook.

When the bell rang for the first lesson the girls stood from the table, Lyra was almost out of the Great Hall when she heard her name.

'Lyra, hey!'

Lyra turned to see Lily Evans walking towards her. One glance over the red-heads shoulder made it clear that she'd been sitting alongside James and the rest of the boys.

Ignoring Marlene's not-so-discreet eye-roll, Lyra smiled. As Lily got closer however, Marlene walked off, telling Lyra that she'd see her later.

'You have Potions now, right?' Lily asked when she'd reached her.

'Yeah.'

The two turned and headed towards the corridor that would lead them down to the dungeons. Lyra hid a smile as she saw Lily send a small wave to James. At this Remus caught Lyra's eye and they shared a knowing smirk at their friends.

The two girls walked in a somewhat comfortable silence.

In spite of being in the same year and house and having shared a room for the past six years, Lily and Lyra had never really become overly close. Lyra supposed that their dormitory was somewhat split. Dorcas and she were on friendly terms with everyone but it was common knowledge, despite it never being commented on, that Lily and Marlene weren't really that keen on each other. This left Dorcas and Lyra to play peacemaker, with Dorcas entertaining Lily and leaving Lyra to deal with Marlene's blunt sense of humour.

Lyra had assumed that Lily has always been a bit standoffish toward her because she didn't approve of Sirius' antics. But now, if Lyra were to guess again, she probably would have said that James was the reason why she'd kept her distance. Not that it mattered much now. Lily seemed to finally be opening up to him and the others, and she supposed, that included her as well.

They were almost to the classroom, the sound of chatter drifting towards them, when Lily spoke.

'I heard about what happened over the summer,' she said quickly. 'I'm really sorry.'

To say that Lyra was surprised was only half true. Remus had mentioned his suspicions that James may have written her shortly after the twins arrived at the Potters.

'I didn't know what you two were going through. If I had …'

 _You might have been a tad nicer?_ Lyra shook her head, now was not the time to start acting like Sirius.

'Lily, it's okay. Really,' she added, seeing the unsure look on Lily's face.

'Are you – I mean, you're alright now though?' Lily said after another moment's silence. Lyra tried to appear as if she hadn't noticed how the Head Girl's gaze had dropped briefly to her stomach.

'I am.' _For the most part._

Lily forced an understanding smile. 'Well if you ever want anyone to talk to …'

Lyra's stomach twisted for the second time that morning. 'Uh, thanks Lily.'

She hadn't realised how far they'd walked until she heard a long, drawn-out, over-exaggerated groan. That's when she realised who was standing amongst the crowd gathered outside the Potions classroom.

'There goes my thinking that this class was for top students only.'

Severus Snape, Maxus Mulciber and Rabastan Lestrange were sneering in Lily's direction – Snape trying to hide what Lyra could only guess was a conflicted look – and they did not look impressed.

Lily tensed almost imperceptibly but she kept walking towards the classroom door. She eyed the boys as she passed them.

 _Don't do it Lily. Don't –_

'Well if it was then I'd be awfully surprised to see you in it.'

Lyra mentally groaned as she watched Lestrange's face turn slightly pink.

'Why you little – '

The classroom door opened and Professor Slughorn gave a boisterous cry of surprise, as if he'd forgotten that he had a class now. Whether he noticed the obvious tension or not, he quickly ushered them inside. Upon spotting Lily, Slughorn personally showed her through the door, quickly striking up a conversation about what she'd thought of the summer homework he'd assigned them.

The relief that had been sweeping through Lyra came to a sudden stop when a hand grabbed her arm on her way to the room.

'You know you're better than this, right?'

Lestrange had leaned in so close to her that his face was unfocussed when she tried to look at him. She tried to lean away but his grip on her was too tight.

'You don't have to live on the back of his mistakes.'

Lyra gritted her teeth when he moved in closer.

'There are people here who care about you, Lyra. I remember when there was a time you'd believe me when I said that. But it's true. It's as true now as it was then. Please remember that the next time you're dragged into one of Sirius' messes.' He let go and entered the classroom, leaving Lyra to lose another short breath of relief out in the corridor.

XXXXX

She stood outside the entrance to Dumbledore's office, staring at the statue that concealed the spiral staircase, Sirius' words kept echoing in her mind.

'I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt to talk to him about it,' he'd said whilst the two sat in a corner of the Common Room. 'He'll know what to do.'

He just didn't understand. She _knew_ what to do too, she hadn't come this far by being clueless. And she realised he was just concerned, but ever since that incident at the start of the holidays his concern had been taken to a whole new level, and it was becoming exhausting.

'Well? Are you going to tell me the password or are you just going to keep me waiting all night?'

Lyra blinked and realised that it was the statue that had spoken. Apologising, she told it the password and stepped forward.

The door to Dumbledore's office was already wedged open when Lyra stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs. She took this as a kind of invitation. He obviously knew she'd be stopping by and yet he was no when in sight as she peered into the office beyond. Trying to steal her confidence, she strode through the door.

Never having been summoned to his office before, she wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting. Of course, Sirius and the others had filled her in on some of the details, but she now realised that there was a great deal they'd forgotten to mention.

Like all the various silver and bronze instruments placed amongst the books and on small tables throughout the circular room. They whirled, popped and spun around like spinning tops. There was a constant soft hum of noise and activity blanketing the space. Lyra could feel soft ripples of magic emanating from some of them, she shuffled around the feeling, skirting the area, pretending she couldn't feel a thing.

Glancing at the various bookshelves lining the walls. Her feet paused when she saw what was sitting amongst the volumes. Looking as worn and as tattered as ever, the Sorting Hat sat unanimated, harmless, meaningless. But even without a trace of life, Lyra still couldn't shake the feeling that it was looking right at her, watching her, judging her, silently reminding her of things she already knew.

Stifling the frustrated anger that had started to rise in her like flames from a fire, she continued further into the room.

She was only a metre or two away from the Headmaster's desk when she stopped dead.

She was keenly aware of exactly two things. Only one of those things came as a shock, however, the other she'd been dreading ever since entering the office … no, it had been even longer than that … she'd been dreading it ever since McGonagall told her that _this_ is where she'd serve detention – _here,_ where _he_ could what on from above.

She scoured the surrounding walls where a sea of portraits hung. He majority of the past headmasters and mistresses of Hogwarts were snoozing in their frames, or appeared to be doing so at least. A few were awake and staring at her, unblinking. She paid them no mind as she searched for the frame she knew would be up there.

Apprehension grew as she looked from portrait to portrait. She hadn't laid eyes on him in years. She couldn't remember exactly what was said during their last conversation but the sour feelings she still held gave her the impression that it hadn't been particularly pleasant.

What would he say to her being here? Would he report back to _them_?

'Ah, Miss Black!'

Lyra gave a start, looking away from the wall at once. The sight of Albus Dumbledore standing behind his desk was enough to extinguish her apprehension but a sick feeling lingered like smoke, clouding her stomach.

He was positively beaming, blue eyes sparkling from behind his half-moon spectacles. She'd never had the urge to shuffle on her feet more in her life. Thankfully, he motioned for her to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her.

He stood for a moment after she'd sat down, looking at her and although his expression remained harmless, she couldn't help feeling increasingly uneasy. She didn't hold his gaze for long. Instead, she looked straight ahead and came face to face with the thing that had delivered her such a shock moments before.

She'd read about Phoenix's of course, but seeing one in real life made the books she'd read seem more like children's stories – crude, basic and truly undeserving of the real thing.

It's red and gold plumage seemed to hold a gleam to it that had nothing to do with the fire its perch was set against. It was so tall that she imagined it's wing-span to fill the entire office wall-to-wall. But what really proved the most mesmerising thing was it's small, black, eyes that reflected the light like precious stones.

It didn't just seem to be watching her either, but studying her, in a similar way to how she was studying it. It's eyes followed every move hers did.

'I've just made some tea, would you like a cup?'

She tore her eyes away from the bird long enough to say, 'Yes, thank you, sir,' but as soon as Dumbledore's back was to her, she found her attention being pulled back to the Phoenix.

It wasn't just the fact that she was looking at an incredibly rare animal that had her intrigued. She could almost _feel_ it's curiosity, could almost _hear_ it's mind working. It was as if they were talking to each other but it was answering her in a language she couldn't understand.

Suddenly, it clicked its beak and Lyra had to grip the edge of her seat as a ripple shot through her. Blinking, wide-eyed, trying to shake off the sensation, Lyra stared at the bird.

 _What was that? It felt like a surge of magic, of raw magic. There was no mistaking it. After all, I should know what it feels like by now. But how was that possible? Was it trying to hurt me? It doesn't look like it, if anything it looks even more curious than before. So if it knew I wouldn't be hurt by it then it must know that –_

'Sugar?'

It took all her control not to jump again. She'd almost forgotten about Dumbledore, who had been bustling about in the back corner of the room. She shook her head and watched him place the tea cup on the desk in front of her.

She stared at it while Dumbledore took a seat in his high-backed chair. After taking a few sips from his own cup, he put it down in front of him and then leant back, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

'And how are you today, Miss Black?'

For such a simple question it was harder than anyone would have thought to answer. Lyra felt all the things she wanted to say rise up her throat. She wanted to say that her stomach hurt, that it had been throbbing consistently for days and had now become rather painful. She wanted to say that she was annoyed, not at anything in particular, but just annoyed, like a rash that just wouldn't budge. And she wanted to tell him that she was tired, so tired.

But she didn't say any of that. Instead, she gave a soft smile and replied with, 'I'm fine, thank you, sir.'

'I trust that your year is off to a good start?'

She nodded her head.

If Dumbledore was at all disappointed by the lack of response than he wasn't showing it.

'How are your classes coming along?'

Lyra refused to let her shoulder sag. 'Fine sir.'

'Any particular favourites?'

'I've always enjoyed Ancient Runes, sir.'

'Yes, Professor Weatherby has always spoken very highly of you,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'I must confess to having browsed through your academic records. Hearing that Ancient Runes is your preferred subject isn't at all surprising, you have always seemed to favour theory over practicality.'

'Well I've always had the belief that one's brains should be favoured just as much as one's brawn, sir,' she said lightly.

Dumbledore gave a chuckle. 'I suppose you're right, but considering the current climate it wouldn't hurt to have just a little more brawn.'

 _The current climate?_

'But you have not come to me tonight to have a chat about your academic studies,' he said softly, picking up his cup again and taking another sip.

The anxiety that had settled like thick liquid in the depths of her stomach started to vaporize, filling her innards with uncomfortable, stifling, choking smog.

'Although I was not present during last week's morning excitement, I have been told what occurred.' He put the cup back on the table but didn't lean back. 'I understand the pressures that must be being felt by all of you.'

She supressed a snort, making sure to keep all the muscles in her face straight, impassive, unyielding. Annoyingly she felt her nostrils flare and could have sworn that she saw a spark burst in the fire behind Dumbledore, although she hoped she'd just imagined it.

'I received an inquiry from the Ministry of Magic a few weeks ago about an incident of great magical energy that was detected around the area I believe your family's house to be.'

There was no mistaking it this time. The fire momentarily flared up in the grate.

'I was able to put their minds at ease and I know that you have been through a difficult ordeal, Miss Black, but I must ask, is there anything you wish to talk to me about?'

Lyra looked at the wall where the portraits hung again, this time she spotted the one she'd been looking for almost immediately. His eyes were hard and his mouth pressed in a thin line as he looked down at her but at least he wasn't wearing his usual sneer.

'Phineas has agreed not to relay anything he hears in this room tonight whilst visiting his other portrait,' Dumbledore said, following her gaze.

Lyra stayed still and silent. She watched the Phoenix, trying to ignore Dumbledore as he got out of his chair and moved out of her line of site. Curiosity eventually got the better of her and she looked behind her.

Dumbledore was standing at a small table. It reached his waist and on the table top sat a glass chess set. It wasn't a wizarding set like the ones she had grown up with but a normal, muggle set, the pieces sat immobile in their places.

'Do you play chess, Miss Black?' He said after what seemed an incredibly long time. It was as if they were talking about her classes again, his voice was casual, light, even slightly charming. She frowned at the change in topic. 'Surely your parents must have taught you.'

'They did, but I've never attempted the muggle version of the game.'

Dumbledore gave an odd sort of chuckle which came out more like a huff. 'I must admit that I find it much more of a challenge.' He picked up a piece, one of the knights made of frosted glass, and examined it before putting it back on its square. 'Much more difficult when you aren't getting outside help. You're forced to really on natural ability alone.'

This time she didn't notice the growing flames.

'But,' he said turning around and making his way back to his chair. Lyra watched his every step, his every movement. 'some of us hold the upper hand even there.' Sitting down he shrugged meekly. 'But it has been years since I came across a stimulating opponent.'

'Well maybe you'll find someone up to the challenge yet, professor.' She didn't know what else to say, what else she should say and she didn't feel at all relieved when Dumbledore released a smile.

'Let us hope so, Miss Black.' His smile widened for a fraction of a second before it settled. 'Well if there really isn't anything you would like to talk about then you should probably be getting back to your Common Room.'

Lyra nodded her head once and tried not to reach for her bag too quickly. She had just started walking away from him when the headmaster spoke again.

'Madam Pomfrey tells me that you haven't yet been to see her yet?'

He said it so casually that he may have been enquiring about a meeting between friends that he had helped set up. It was then that Lyra realised that whilst James was writing Lily about what happened, James' parents had no doubt been writing Dumbledore.

She turned and faced him. 'Mrs Potter gave me some potions and salve before I left. I've not yet needed to replace them.' Salve that was almost entirely gone.

Dumbledore nodded politely. 'Even so, it would be wise if you went to see her so she can see how you're progressing.' He leaned in ever so slightly and dipped his head so as to look at her over the tops of his glasses. Lyra resisted the urge to be unnerved by the intensity of those blue orbs that seemed to look right through her.

'Yes, sir, I will.' Then she turned and left the room trying to ignore the three sets of eyes she could feel burrowing into her back.

XXX

Dumbledore watched her retreat from the room. He was acutely aware that every step she took away from him, the softer the fire – which had quickly, alarmingly, flared back to life from throughout their conversation – seemed to become.

Even after she'd left, he kept his eyes fixed on the spot he had seen her last.

'I see what you mean, Albus,' said a voice from above. Dumbledore looked up to see Phineas looking at the same spot he had just looked away from. 'She's getting worse.' He looked to Dumbledore. 'Do you think she knows?'

'Perhaps.'

'What are you going to do?'

Dumbledore considered this for a long moment before releasing a heavy breath.

'I'm not entirely sure.'

'Perhaps you should ask that bird of yours.'

Dumbledore turned slowly around, shocked to see Fawkes staring intensely, curiously, at the same spot Dumbledore had just turned from.

XXXXXXXX

'Are you sure that it's going to work?'

'Of course I'm sure. You've read the letter, haven't you? They've been working on this for a very long time, Regulus. If they're confident than you should be as well.'

He knew, Regulus knew that he should believe him. Lestrange had been telling him the same thing all night, ever since the two sat down as soon as the Common Room had emptied. But something still wasn't sitting right. After all, who was he to question _anything_? He'd already done enough damage – something else Lestrange had been telling him all night. But there was still time to redeem himself.

'What about my suggestion?'

Lestrange looked more than a little annoyed. 'They're considering it,' he sneered. 'For now, let's just see how their plan goes first, why don't we? Just remember your part and leave everything else to them.'


	11. Chapter 11

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **Nothing major in here. When re-reading however I noticed that I put in that there was a full moon and I realised that I'd already had Remus going home for a full moon from James' and thought that it was probably a bit too soon for another one.**

 **Hope you like and please R+R**

* * *

 _'I'm sure he's heard the rumour – the same one most pureblood families have heard.'_

* * *

By the time Lyra climbed through the portrait hole, she was so exhausted that she hadn't noticed that the Common Room wasn't empty. All she was focussed on was the staircase that would take her to her bed, to peace and quiet, even if just for a few hours.

'Lyra?'

Lyra looked around to see James, Peter and Marlene sitting in the armchairs in front of the fire.

 _Great._

'Are you alright?' James asked.

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.' Just the effort of talking had her head swaying. 'I'm just a little tired is all.' She made a poor attempt at a smile. 'I think I'm just going to go to bed. Goodnight.'

She was so relieved to find the dormitory empty that she sagged a little on the door before walking further into the room.

With a simple twitch of the fingers, her pyjamas soared into her hands as she entered the bathroom.

Closing the door with a soft click a wave of nausea crashed over her and she lurched forwards, gripping either side of the sink. The room span and swayed. Once she could stand to have her eyes open without feeling as if she were at sea, she looked up into the mirror.

She looked horrible.

Her face was pale and sickly. Her eyes were red and they looked as heavy as they felt, dark smudges stained the skin beneath them. She could see the film of sweat that covered her face and felt it clinging to the rest of her body.

She was shaking slightly as she started to fumble with the buttons of her shirt.

If she'd thought her face looked bad, it was nothing compared to what lay concealed under her shirt.

Three long, thick, deep scars tore across her stomach. All three were excruciatingly pink, raw, spots of blood outlined the edges of the largest scar. But the state of the scars was not what sent Lyra into a horror-stricken panic. The scars had been getting progressively worse since she'd returned to Hogwarts, so the blood starting to peak through wasn't surprising, in fact, she'd been half expecting it. It was the skin surrounding the scars that had her gripping the sink tighter.

The veins around her stomach, normally hidden and forgotten, had become black and raised. They stretched from the scars, a festering, scrambled maze trying desperately to crawl it's way outwards. It had definitely spread. And it had definitely become more painful, in fact, it was excruciating. Intense waves of pain radiated from them, making the room sway.

Lyra closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Ignoring the pain, she concentrated instead on the pressure that had been slowly building from deep within herself. She imagined it as a pile of bright light, she scooped the light up in her arms and swept it over herself. The pressure now moved throughout her, rolling waves of heat, she felt it travel down the length of her arms and pool in the tips of her fingers.

When her hands had been enveloped in a comfortable warmth, bordering on heat, Lyra opened her eyes again.

Never taking her eyes off the reflection of her stomach, she raised her hands to her wounds. Her hands were glowing, her fingertips most of all and they contrasted so shockingly against the blackened veins as she pressed them against the fettered tendrils.

With a long exhale, Lyra released the hold she'd been using to keep that pool contained to her hands.

It was like dipping into a pool of cool water on a hot summer's day. Instant relief had her eyes closing and her head lolling forwards as she sighed.

The tendrils receded at a steady pace. The longer she held her fingers against her stomach however, the less her hands continued to glow and the more effort she had apply in order for them to remain bright.

When the last of the black vanished, Lyra let her hands fall. She was panting again, but this time her breathlessness had nothing to do with pain, just exhaustion.

XXXXXX

'Do you think she's alright?' Peter asked when Lyra disappeared upstairs. 'Only, she looked awfully pale.'

Marlene looked to James and saw her own concern reflected in his face. He opened his mouth to respond but at that same moment, the portrait hole opened again.

Sirius, followed by Remus and Lily, stumbled into the room, all three were laughing deeply. Their laughter died quickly when they caught sight of the other's faces.

'What is it?' Lily asked, looking straight at James.

James, looking rather unsure as to how to respond, looked first to Peter, then to Marlene before settling on the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

'Is it Lyra?' Sirius asked at once.

Marlene quietly noticed how Remus's posture tensed somewhat. Whether it was due to Sirius' tone or the fact that Lyra's name had been mentioned, she wasn't sure.

'Is she back already?' Sirius pressed on. 'Where is she?'

'She's gone to bed,' James said, holding up his hands for Sirius to slow down. 'She wasn't looking the best.'

Sirius trudged towards the closest chair and fell into it with a certain level of grace only he could manage without meaning to. Remus, after a beat, mirrored Sirius' actions, sitting down on the lounge next to Peter where Lily took the place next to James.

After a short silence, Sirius looked up and found Marlene's eyes instantly, his own full of desperate worry. He went to say something but found that he didn't have to.

Marlene rose from her spot. 'I'll go check on her,' she said, placing a hand on Sirius' arm on her way past.

Sirius didn't say anything, didn't offer any form of thanks as she climbed up the stairs. He simply stared at the spot on his arm where her hand had touched him.

XXXX

Lyra was halfway through pulling her pyjama top gingerly over her head when someone banged on the door.

'Lyra?'

Lyra jumped, wincing immediately. She went to answer but decided that the effort required to do so wouldn't be worth it, Marlene could wait.

'Lyra, are you alright in there?'

Marlene may as well have been pounding against Lyra's skull. She held her head, rubbing her temples hard, trying to get it to just stop throbbing.

But Marlene's pace had increased. Without looking in the mirror, Lyra spun around and yanked the door open. Marlene stood before her, mouth open mid-yell, hand up ready to bang on the door that was longer there.

Her dumbfounded expression held as Lyra brushed past her, but she recovered quickly. Sensing Lyra's mood, Marlene merely walked toward her own bed.

'How was detention?'

'Fine,' was all the response she got as the dark haired girl climbed into her four-poster.

'Well, what happen- '

She was cut short when Lyra pulled the curtains around her bed closed.

With a silent sigh, Marlene made her way back down to the Common Room, all the while cursing the Black temper.

She'd long since recognised the difference between the twins and how they dealt with things.

Sirius, she imagined, would have been the sort of child to throw immeasurable, painful tantrums. She could just picture a five year-old version of him, throwing things, stomping his little feet into the ground, shouting in a high-pitched squeal. Even now, as an almost-adult, Sirius seemed to live by the motto 'do now, think later.' _If ever._

Lyra, however … Marlene was secretly incredibly grateful that she had never been the cause of upsetting her dark-haired friend. To say that Lyra gave the silent treatment would have been a gross under exaggeration. After all, Lyra was a Black and along with the temper, the twins had also inherited the signature Black mask. Unreadable and unrelenting.

But where Sirius didn't quite know what to do with it or how to use it, the mask fixed could fix itself so naturally to Lyra's features that anyone meeting her for the first time whilst she was in a mood would have them checking their every move for fear of annoying her further.

It had taken a few years for Marlene to figure out how to handle the two.

Confront for Sirius, retreat like hell for Lyra.

Although she didn't really have to concern herself all that much with the former, which was a shame really. Out of the two, Sirius' reactions did prove the most entertaining.

'Maybe talk to her tomorrow,' she said when she re-entered the Common Room and found six pairs of eyes on her – Dorcas had joined them from her late night wonderings.

As she walked back to retake her spot on the lounge, she noticed that Sirius' jaw was clamped, a muscle in his jaw twitching, his hands wringing together slowly. Lily's cheeks had adopted an angry red tinge.

 _I leave them alone for two seconds._

Trying to diffuse the obvious tension, she added, albeit half-heartedly and probably very unconvincingly, 'She's very tired.'

Silence fell thickly around the room for a moment before Lily went to say something.

'Oh shut up, Lily.'

Dorcas, Peter and Marlene stared at Sirius as he raced up the stairs to his own dormitory, taking them two at a time.

Lily, seething, glared from the stairs to James.

Annoyance flared to life, as it so often did whenever Marlene caught Lily exploiting James. It was so obvious and it frustrated her that he couldn't see it, or didn't want to.

But James, catching Lily's glare, nodded stiffly and followed his best friend.

No one said anything for a long while, nor did they fill Marlene in on what happened.

XXXX

Sirius didn't talk to Lyra about it the next day, or any day after that. Countless years of experience told him, simply and without room for question, that there was absolutely no point in trying.

He had even stopped going to the library. He couldn't afford to have her shut him out anymore. They had been back at Hogwarts for less than a month and the twins had been on rocky footing the most of it.

Sirius could only think of one other time where he and Lyra had been at such odds for so long. And what made it so much worse is that he couldn't pin-point a reason why it was like that now.

As was habit these days, Sirius quickly glanced from the teachers table to the Slytherin table upon entering the Great Hall for breakfast. Dumbledore was sitting in his usual seat, reading from a book whilst eating a bowl full of porridge.

Regulus had not yet arrived.

James didn't even wait for Sirius to take a seat beside him before he started. 'You wouldn't happen to have a pepper up potion on you by any chance?' The exhaustion in his voice was unmistakeable, whether it was genuine or not, was less so. Although it _was_ James, and he did have a tendency to be somewhat over dramatic.

Sirius smirked, _child._

'Why? Realising that being wonder boy isn't as easy as you thought it was going to be?'

'Lily just told me that we have a prefect's meeting tonight. I _was_ looking forward to clocking off from fourth period. Now I'll spend my entire free period thinking of what the hell happens at a prefect meeting.'

'Hey, at least Snape'll be there, so it won't be a complete loss.'

'No,' James said. 'I'm not doing anything to Snape with Lily watching. She seemed genuinely impressed when I gave her my notes the other night.'

Sirius looked at him in mock-shock. 'Why? Why must you always try to ruin my fun?'

'Because that's how the rest of us have fun, Black.'

Marlene, Dorcas and Lily approached the table. The former smirking smugly as she sat down.

Sirius groaned loudly. 'No, that's just you, McKinnon. No one else is as much of a sadistic bi-'

'Anyway,' James interjected. It was far too easy for Sirius and Marlene to start throwing hexes at one another. But the looks on the other's faces, they agreed. Although from the looks of Lily's pursed lips, she might not have minded the two coming to blows. No doubt she was still sore from last night.

Still glaring intermittently at the smug blonde across the table, Sirius allowed himself to be absorbed into a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch season.

Tryouts had been held a few days before and Davies had the team training almost every night since in order to 'create and bolster a positive energy within the new team dynamic.' It quickly became apparent that the only other person whose enthusiasm rivalled Davies' more was James, who had appointed himself as deputy captain and whole-heartedly agreed with his new captain's approach. Sirius really didn't know how he was managing it what with his Head Boy duties and the tonnes of homework they'd already received.

'We _have_ to practice, Sirius!' James said after catching the beater rolling his eyes. 'I'll be damned if we lose to the Slytherin's in our first game of the year.'

At the mention of their rival house, Sirius involuntarily glanced over to the far table. He only had enough time to register the continued lack of a certain someone before he spotted Remus and Lyra walking into the Hall.

He didn't really need to look at her all that closely to realise how tense she was. Her lips were a little tighter than usual and her thumb was kept busy by twisting the silver ring on her index finger.

No, she was just worried about school work, no doubt.

Lyra, always the worrier.

As the pair got closer to the Gryffindor table their voices got quieter and quieter, making it impossible for anyone to listen in. Not that Sirius was trying all that hard too, he just didn't really know why this had him feeling so uneasy all of a sudden.

He was forced it ignore it however when he felt a rush of air brush past his cheek and something falling onto his plate.

Confusion clouded over. Who would be writing to him? Everyone who he would normally expect letters from were currently all sitting at the same table he was. He supposed that the Potters may write to him, but why would they be writing to _him_ and not to James?

But then he saw his name written in a sharp cursive along the parchment. He recognised the handwriting from distant memories. It was as if someone who was used to writing very neatly and in a fine way had been forcing their movements into a style that was the complete opposite.

Sirius pulled the letter subtly off the table and slid it into the inside pocket of his robe. From the corner of his eye he saw Lyra now talking to Peter and Dorcas. He swallowed. He wanted nothing more than to pull out the letter and read it right then and there. But he couldn't, not with her right across from him.

Whatever his uncle had to say, it could wait till lunch.

XXXXX

He couldn't wait till lunch.

As soon as McGonagall's back was to him in his first lesson after breakfast, Sirius whipped the letter out of his robes. He smoothed it out across the table and began to read as quickly as he could.

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _I must say it was rather a large surprise having received a letter from you. A delightful surprise but one none the less, for I cannot remember the last time we met, or indeed had any sort of correspondence for that matter. But here your letter is, in my hand, nonetheless and I suppose that's all that matters now._

Sirius could've cursed him out loud. He remembered why he rarely got in contact with Alphard, even if the old man couldn't. With Alphard even something as simple as instructions on how to pour juice into a cup could lead to multiple and equally as boring tangents that lead absolutely nowhere.

Making sure that McGonagall was still occupied, Sirius returned to the letter.

 _As for your enquiry, I'm not too sure how much assistance I can offer you. My health is not what it used to be, I'm afraid and my memory seems to be failing me more and more as the days pass._

 _I do not recall too much from those years – I had already been cast out by that point and so was not privy to the familial gossip wheel. But I did try to keep informed on rumours._

 _It was said that Walburga had indeed become a little mad – a possibility I'm sure is not too much of a hard thing for you to believe, given what rumours I have been hearing about you recently, my boy. She had apparently even started to avoid parties of any kind towards the end of it, obviously not wanting to confront the whispers of why she had not yet made any announcements of being with child yet._

 _I heard that she sought help from her most trusted, personal healers, took the latest potions and even went to visit her sister – you know, that particularly old and nasty one._

 _In the end, I suppose someone must have provided fair advice, for you, along with your sister, were born not twelve months later. And what a blessing you two turned out to be. Your mother must be beside herself with anger at the current moment. All that effort and for what?_

 _Well that's all, I'm afraid. I cannot remember anything else I may have heard on the subject, I was especially bitter at the time and did not really concern myself all that much about any of it._

 _But, alas, my house elf is becoming rather insistent that I take my daily potion – vile stuff and I swear it has no vital application whatsoever._

 _But Sirius, if you need any more help, anyone to turn to, I hope you keep me in mind._

 _Say hello to your lovely sister on my behalf._

 _All the best,_

 _Alphard._

Sirius had to quickly charm the letter to convince McGonagall that it was actually his notes and that he had been adding to them voraciously whilst she wasn't looking. For the rest of the day, however, his thoughts kept returning to that letter, now folded neatly in his Transfiguration textbook.

 _She even started to avoid parties_.

If there was one thing Sirius was sure of, it was the fact that his mother was incapable of _avoiding_ anything. She delighted in boasting and condemning those around her too much to ever miss out on such a golden opportunity to access what wealth of information was offered in abundance at social events, no matter how poor a condition she was in. But then, what _would_ keep her from attending?

 _Her sister_. Sirius knew from the brief description given to him, who Alphard had been referring to. She wasn't really his mother's sister, in fact, he wasn't too sure if she was related to him at all. Sirius had met her only once. She was an extremely old lady, tall and haughty, and if it weren't for that manic glint that shone so brightly in her eyes, she may have even been considered to be an approachable witch.

Sirius still remembered how she had stared at Lyra throughout their entire meeting. It was as if she would have liked nothing more than to cut Lyra open to see how she worked. But that was when they had been very young. Sirius still wasn't sure who she was, nor did he know anything about her family. And if there was one way to find out about a pureblood, it was to find out about their family.

But he knew someone who might know and so all thoughts of Quidditch matches, of full moons and crazed uncles soared from his mind as a plan started to take shape – a plan to get into the Headmaster's office.

XXXXX

She waited somewhere she knew he would eventually pass.

He always went to Prefect Meetings the same way – a habit she was grateful for, otherwise it may have left her waiting for a rather long time for no one.

She heard footsteps but didn't move. Instead, she watched him as he passed her.

Such a leisurely pace, he could have been on his way down to the lake on a sunny afternoon. If only it wasn't so forced.

'Need some company?' She asked, stepping out of the shadows.

Remus didn't even jump, he just smiled broadly as she walked towards him. He looked awfully tired, his skin pale and slightly gaunt and a ring of bright amber encircled the blacks of his eyes. Nevertheless his smile brightened his features, it settled her stomach, if only slightly.

They hugged briefly but deeply before continuing down the corridor to the Hospital.

'You know, technically, I could give you a detention for being out after curfew,' Remus said after a few steps in silence.

Leaning back, she narrowed her eyes with a sly smile as if daring him to. 'Well, I best be getting back to the Common Room then.'

She made to move but two strong arms encircled her waist and she was pulled back into him. 'Oh no, you don't,' he laughed. He let her go but kept her hand in his as they walked.

'You are going back to the Common Room after this though, aren't you?'

Lyra didn't answer him, she looked out the windows they passed instead.

Remus groaned. 'Lyra.'

'I just want to talk to him, Remus. I want to see how he is. I want to explain why we left.'

Remus' eyes darkened. 'If he can't figure that out for himself Lyra, then he doesn't deserve an explanation.'

Lyra clenched her jaw, recalling the conversation she'd overhead the other night. For a brief second, she considered telling Remus what she'd seen, but something held her back. She didn't know whether it was she knew Remus would eventually tell Sirius or whether she just wanted to protect Regulus. He had seemed so lost the other night, and so young.

The grip on her hand squeezed.

'Please, promise me you're not going to try anything only Sirius would do.'

She nodded but said, very quietly, mostly to herself, 'In a sea of enemies can I not have just one friend?'

This time when Remus brought her into his arms it was gently, tenderly. He tilted her chin so that her eyes met his. 'You have me and no matter how deep the sea becomes I will always be there. I'm your anchor.'

Lyra shook her head. 'No, I already have an anchor. You're what keeps me afloat.'

His returning smile was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

XX

She didn't go the whole way to the meeting with him but instead kissed him goodbye and bid him good night when they were a few corridors away.

The corridors had become steadily colder from the howling draft that rushed into the castle. Even the smallest walk through the halls required a scarf to be worn – especially in the late hours of the night.

Lyra was just adjusting her own red and gold scarf tighter around her neck when she saw movement from further down the corridor. She looked up just in time to see someone walking away from her. A dark, long-haired haired someone. They rounded the corner and she caught a flash of green material.

'Regulus?' Lyra said, walking towards the corridor he'd just turned into. 'Regulus!' She rounded the corner in time to see him already half way down the corridor. 'Regulus, wait!'

She wasn't sure if he hadn't heard her or was simply ignoring her but he continued to walk as if she wasn't there.

She'd reached a jog by the time she rounded the next corner. Skidding to a halt she was startled to see that it wasn't Regulus at all who stood by a window to meet her.

'Snape.' She tried not to let her frustration and confusion show but it was difficult. She knew who it was she'd seen. Even though Snape, too, had long and dark hair and wore the green Slytherin robes, she _knew_ that she had been following Regulus.

Snape raised a single eyebrow at her but said nothing.

Lyra debated whether to ask where Regulus had gone but instead said, 'Decided to take a stroll in the moonlight?'

Light from the moon was indeed bathing the corridor in a pale blue, beaming glow, flooding through the open window. Snape turned to peer out of it, surveying the grounds with passing interest.

'Well,' he said calmly, 'it _does_ seem to be a rather popular activity amongst some.' He looked right at her now, as if daring her to say something else on the matter.

She turned to leave but hadn't made it two metres away when he spoke, clear voice carrying through the hall like a leaf on a river.

'I heard the most interesting rumour the other day.'

She tensed immediately and suddenly was acutely aware of her breathing, of the air rushing into her lungs and struggling to escape them.

'Well,' she mocked him, grateful to discover that her voice was steady. 'you know what they say about rumours,' she turned to him, 'best just to ignore them, they often lead to more trouble than they're worth.'

He hadn't lowered his brow. 'And yet it's surprising how many of them tend to be based in fact.'

'And who did you hear this rumour from exactly?' She asked, having lost her patience for subtlety.

Snape didn't answer, but after a few moments of looking at one another, she discovered that he didn't have to.

'Of all the people in the entirety of the world, there is no one I would trust less than Rabastan Lestrange.'

Snape pursed his lips into something that could have passed as a smile … or a sneer. 'Really? Do you distrust everyone you were once close with?'

Lyra tried not to bristle, she tried to twist her mouth into a placating, condescending grin and not into a lip-curling snarl. 'Like I said, it's best to ignore rumours.'

She walked away before he could say anything else, but she couldn't ignore her heart which was pounding just as furiously as the thoughts running through her head.

Where did Regulus go? Had he heard her? She had to find him, talk to him. And what was Lestrange playing at? She shivered at the prospect of having to talk to him as well.


	12. Chapter 12

***Edited as of 09.04.2017***

 **I know that it's really early in the year to have a Hogsmeade trip and I've been tossing up whether or not to delay it, but I decided not to. Please forgive me for it**

 **Thanks to everyone who's been following/favouriting and commenting on this story. The more intricate plot lines are still a bit sketchy but I think I've got a vision for the plot more long term now which is always a good thing.**

 **I went on Pottermore and read up on wand types so I could give Lyra what I think is a perfect fit ... If anyone's interested in why I gave her the combo she has all the info is on Pottermore or drop me a note and I'll let you know :)**

 **But, as they say, on with the show…**

* * *

 _'For the mission to run the smoothest possible course it was a … necessary requirement that your mental stability be compromised,'_

* * *

 _She stood in the middle of a narrow hallway. Everything seemed to tower over her so that she had to strain her neck slightly to see the many heads that hung along the wall, which were mere silhouette's in the shadows._

 _From somewhere down the halls, echoes of sobbing drifted towards her. It was a pitiful sound, choking and whining. As she stood there she had the strange feeling, like that noise was pulling at her. But she did not want to go to it. She was afraid of what she might find, why would someone cry like that, as if they were in pain, but from deep within them?_

 _Suddenly she was half way down the hall and the sobbing had reached an ear-splitting pitch. Then she was by the door at the end of the hall, the sobs full-blown shrieks of agony and desperation._

 _She threw her hands over ears and made to peer into the room when the shrieks changed all at once. Removing her hands, she found that the cries had stopped, replaced with delighted, tinkling laughter._

 _Cold fear flooded through her, rooting her to the spot where she stood. Strange that she should have such a reaction to laughter and not screaming. A young boy with shoulder length black hair came skipping from the room. Her panic peaked when the boy turned to her on his way past._

 _He had no face._

 _Where eyes, a nose and mouth should have been, there was nothing but an expanse of smooth skin. It reminded her of a mannequin's head. But without a doubt, the laughter that continued to ring was coming from this faceless boy._

 _When the boy was half way down the hall, he stopped suddenly and turned back around._

 _She would have bet anything that if he had had eyes, he would have been looking right at her._

 _'Come on!' The voice came from the blank head. 'It's this way.'_

What was? _She looked around, then back to the boy. She recognised the setting now. She was in Grimmauld Place. But who was this boy supposed to be? Why had he been crying so horribly? Had he done something bad? She didn't want to get in trouble._

 _The boy sounded excited now though. It would be rude of her not to follow, yet she still felt that dread snagging some corner of her mind. He was just a little boy, what harm could he do?_

 _She made to move to follow him but her feet wouldn't move, everything from her ankles to her toes felt unbelievably heavy. Looking down, she gasped._

 _The floor below her was no longer solid. It was pulling her down quickly._

 _She tried pulling her feet out but it was no use._

 _'Help!' She called to the boy. The floor had reached her knees. 'Help me!'_

 _But the boy did nothing but faced her as she struggled._

 _She descended into complete hysteria as she sunk further and further. She called out to the boy, pleading, begging for him to help her, but he didn't move. For some inexplicable reason, she had the feeling that, if he had a mouth, it would have been curling up into a sinister sort of smile._

 _The floor was now at her ribs. She felt it surround her ribs. She couldn't breathe. She clawed at the ground, her nails digging into the polished, wooden floorboards. But still she sank._

 _It was at her shoulders now. Her arms were trapped. Her throat was closing up. It was getting harder to see. She couldn't move. Why wasn't he helping her? She squeezed her eyes shut as the floor consumed her._

Lyra jerked from the bed. She was covered in sweat, her pyjamas sticking to every inch of her body they covered.

There was no way of ignoring it any more, her dreams – her nightmares – they were getting worse. It took her hours to fall asleep now and when she did it was restless, always teetering on the edge of consciousness and a light layer of dozing. And even if she were lucky enough to find any sort of deep sleep it would be filled with cryptic and frightening dreams. She was lucky to be getting three hours sleep a night now.

But she did what she'd done all the other nights, rubbed her face – rubbed the lingering memories of the dream from her mind – got out of bed, revelled in the hot water and steam of her morning shower, packed her bag for the day ahead and left for breakfast. The one thing that hadn't seemed to escape her was her appetite. Every time she jerked awake from a bad dream, or even after she'd simply laid in bed with her eyes closed for most of the night, she found herself famished.

She took the space between Remus and Lily. James, Sirius and Marlene sat across from them, with Peter sitting next to Remus.

It didn't take her long to realise that they were discussing the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

'Well I wasn't going to go …' Lily said meekly trailing off.

'But then I convinced her that if she didn't get out of this place every once in a while, she may actually go completely stir crazy.' James looked awfully pleased that he'd managed to change her mind on the matter. Actually, he probably would have looked pleased to have influenced any decision the red head made.

Marlene's eye roll and muttering at this wasn't missed by Sirius who leaned back in his spot on the bench to look at her. 'What was that, McKinnon?'

Marlene leaned back. She looked at him steadily for a second, not saying anything before she faced the others again.

 _At least there are some things that have stayed the same_ , Lyra thought, watching the exchange as she heaped a pile of scrambled eggs on to her plate. _Those two need to have a row and soon, or they'll both drive each other insane._

'How about you Lyra?' Lily asked. 'You planning on going?'

Lyra nodded whilst she chewed. 'I was actually,' she said, swallowing. 'I have to admit, they've gotten better the last few trips.'

From beside her she heard Remus huff out a smile as he focussed on cutting his food.

Marlene narrowed her eyes at Lyra, who simply answered the look with a small, baiting smile.

XXXXX

'Alright, I want everyone to split up into pairs and spread yourselves around the room,' Professor Antone called out to them one cold Wednesday afternoon.

 _Complete control, you're in complete control_.

Lyra had found herself thinking this exact phrase for quite some time now. If she were being honest with herself it had been growing louder and louder ever since the Hogwarts Express had pulled into Hogsmeade Station. And as much as she'd like to keep trying to convince herself that it was bringing her comfort and not annoyance, it was becoming more and more difficult to do so.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing she'd been finding difficult to ignore. The bizarre conversation that had taken place during her detention with Dumbledore, not to mention the even more odd encounter with his phoenix – the one she was still feeling the effects of the next day – the wounds around her middle, which were requiring more and more attention – she had taken to stopping in at the bathroom between classes to check them, heal them when necessary. Add in the stress of Sirius' elusiveness, Remus' recent transformation and the conversation she'd overheard between Lestrange and Regulus, Lyra was battling a constant throbbing, all-consuming headache.

Lyra and Marlene worked their way to the back corner of the room. The churning feeling that had started in Lyra's gut from the moment she'd entered the classroom and saw that the tables had been pushed to the sides, grew worse when Antone instructed them to walk ten paces apart and then turn to one another.

'Wands out.'

Lyra clutched at her Acacia and Phoenix feather wand tightly as she faced Marlene.

She was only half paying attention to the Professor as he reminded them on the correct way to perform the disarming spell, to which they were attempting to do non-verbally. Apparently he'd realised that the subject had been one of their least consistent, what with his predecessors being many and varied in their teaching methods. For the last few weeks he'd had them going over the basics, a very welcome surprise for Lyra who was very much hoping that it would last just a bit longer.

As per usual, however, it didn't seem as if her wishes were going to be granted.

 _You're in complete control. Just breathe._

The familiar warmth had started pulsing in the veins along her arm. She was fighting the urge to look down at her fingers as she willed the warmth from her fingertips to flow in small trickles into her wand. Like drops from a leaking tap, or morning dew off a heavy leaf.

'You may begin,' Antone's voice called out. 'One person from each pair at a time, if you please,' he said, casting a narrow glance in the direction where Sirius and James stood, smirking at one another.

Lyra raised her arms slightly, tensing them, preparing them, nodding for Marlene to go first.

It took several attempts on Marlene's part to disarm Lyra, who kept glancing at the clock on the far wall, willing time to go faster. Lyra was so focussed on the time that she hardly noticed when her wand was sent flying from her grip, landing with a clank on the ground between herself and Marlene.

'Good attempt, Miss McKinnon,' Antone, who had been moving from pair to pair, said in a silky sort of voice. 'You still need to practice however, Miss Black's wand should have reached further than that. Carry on.'

Lyra slowly went to retrieve her wand. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Sirius and James – who had been successful in non-verbally disarming each other – were now attempting to disarm Remus and Peter who stood on the other side of the room.

Antone followed Lyra's gaze and hurried off in their direction.

Although thankful she no longer had an audience, when Lyra had returned to her position and faced Marlene once again, she felt extremely nervous.

Still focussing intently on trying to maintain that small, steady stream of warmth leaving her fingers she raised her arm, pointing her wand at Marlene's.

She breathed deeply, willing all her concentration on the spell and her wand movements. _Expelliarmus._

Marlene gave a yelp of pain and clutched the hand her wand had been in to her chest, as if it had been burnt. Her wand was merely a blur as it passed through the air, landing quickly in Lyra's wand-free hand.

Lyra's eyes went wide half from shock, and half from the dull, aching pain throbbing down from her shoulder to her fingers. Her shock, thankfully, outweighed the pain and pushed her over to see if her friend was alright.

Marlene was still cradling her hand by the time Lyra had reached her.

'Merlin Marlene, are you alright!?'

Marlene shook her head. 'I'm fine, Lyra. I'm fine.' She flexed her fingers, demonstrating, though Lyra didn't miss the slight wince that flickered across her face as she did so.

 _So much for being in control._ Lyra raised her head, looking around at the other pairs. A seed of bitterness burst when she realised that everyone was practising without incident. She was just trying to school her features into anything but a scowl when her face fell completely.

From the other side of the room, standing next to a strained-face Constance Gretchen, stood Professor Antone, staring right at her.

He had seen the whole thing.

XXX

'Really, Lyra, I'm fine!'

They were making their way to their next lesson – Care of Magical Creatures, with Professor Kettleburn – and despite Marlene having repeated this statement at least ten times within the last half hour, Lyra just kept on asking if her hand was alright. She knew that she was starting to get annoying and she knew that Marlene was almost at the end of her patience.

'I don't understand,' Dorcas piped up from beside Marlene. 'What happened again?'

'We've told you,' Marlene said, rolling her eyes, 'Lyra got the spells mixed up.'

Lyra tried to look sheepishly at the two girls. If only they knew that it was for exactly the opposite reason that she'd hurt Marlene.

She saw the familiar look of pity in Dorcas' eyes. It wasn't all that much of a secret that Lyra had always struggled with wand work. 'At least you got something out, though.' She snorted. 'Better than Gretchen. Did you see her? I've never seen a redder face in my life!'

'I have! But then they usually need my help to look that way.'

Lyra winced a little as Sirius threw his arm around her shoulders. He was smiling goofily around at the group and Dorcas had to eat her words as _her_ face bloomed a bright red when he threw her a wink.

The twins had, over the past few weeks, started talking more and more, but as much as they were trying to ignore it, there was still tension there and neither twin quite knew how to get rid of it.

'Excuse me ladies, d'you mind if I still Lyra for a few moments?'

'Uh …'

'What Dorcas is eloquently trying to put into words is, not at all, Black,' Marlene drawled before pulling Dorcas further along the corridor.

It didn't take long afterwards for the entire corridor to empty, leaving Sirius and Lyra quite alone.

'I need the map back.'

'What?'

'Don't try and play the fool, Lyra. I know you took the map from my bag that night in the library.'

Lyra frowned. 'I most certainly did not. I haven't seen it in weeks. Have you checked with the others? Maybe Remus put it back in his trunk?'

'No, no, I've already checked.' He looked around, thinking. After a few moments he sighed and rubbed at his face. 'Alright, well if you see it then just come find me, alright?'

'Okay,' she said slowly. 'But why-'

'Just come find me, okay?' Sirius called out, already walking away from her.

She continued to stand there long after he'd vanished from sight. Something was going on with that boy and she was still trying to figure out whether she really wanted to find out what it was. Knowing Sirius it wouldn't be anything good, especially with everything that had been on his mind lately. She remembered her conversation with Snape, a rumour had been circulating through Slytherin house. She shuddered to think whether the two were connected.

She was still deep in thought when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, the skin there growing hot and itchy, her breathing becoming constricted. She whirled around, to the suits of armour and the portraits hanging on the walls. The suits of armour were all quite still and none of the portraits seemed to be paying her any mind now that Sirius had left her.

The corridor was completely deserted, there wasn't another soul in sight and yet the feeling remained, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. She indulged in the feeling for just a few more heartbeats before shaking it off and turning back, making her way quickly to her Transfiguration class, to which she was almost certainly late for. McGonagall was going to kill her.

XXXXXXX

Sirius had a problem. Not a particularly major one, more of an extremely persistent and annoying one, and for once in his life, he was not referring to Marlene McKinnon. No, this problem had arisen after the last few weeks of observation. He was quickly coming to realise that, out of all the people in the whole castle, none proved to be more elusive than it's most important occupant.

The only times he'd seen Dumbledore was at meals. Breakfast and dinner, each night, well, most nights. It wasn't unheard of for the Headmaster to leave the castle every so often, him being involved in Ministry matters as well as the running of the school and all. Other than these seemingly insignificant facts, Sirius had no clue as to where the old man spent the rest of his time. Surely he couldn't have be in his office day in and day out.

And therein lies the problem.

He needed the map, now more than ever. How was he supposed to successfully sneak into the Headmaster's office when he didn't know where the man was half the time? The best time to attempt this was when Dumbledore was out of the castle altogether. That would assure him having plenty of time to spend in the room.

Then there was the problem of all the other portraits. How would he be able to talk to Phineas Nigellus without running the risk of being overheard by every other portrait that hung on the surrounding walls? Portraits who would, undoubtedly, report anything they heard back to Dumbledore upon his return.

But now he was getting ahead of himself.

First the map then the charms.

Or maybe he could simply get himself in enough trouble to warrant a meeting with the Headmaster, then, once he's in the office, he'll simply stun the old man, steal the portrait, interrogate it and then return it before Dumbledore has a chance to recover.

'Hey!'

Sirius hadn't even realised where he was walking, but looking around, he found himself in the Gryffindor Common Room, with James sitting in one of the armchairs and looking right at him.

Sirius nodded hello to him and walked across the room. Two sixth years were sitting on the lounge next to the chair James was in. Sirius walked over to stand in front of them.

'Really?' was all he needed to say before the two rose from the lounge, quickly going to find somewhere else to sit. He collapsed into the lounge with a huff, stretching his arms out to lay across the back.

'Where have you been, then?' James asked, sounding more than a little hurt.

'Why? Miss me?' Sirius winked at him.

James, it seemed, wasn't falling for his considerable charm this time. He scoffed, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth but he continued to stare across at his friend, the question still soaking heavily in his eyes.

Sirius looked around the room. The two sixth years from before had found an empty desk in the far corner of the room and had spread a great number of books out in front of them. Apart from them there were a handful of other sixth and seventh years making the most of their free periods.

'I just went to see if Lyra had that homework. I need it,' he said, resting his head back on the lounge.

'I thought you had it last?'

It had long since been established that whenever _that homework_ was discussed within the group they were actually talking about the Marauders Map, one of their most prized possessions.

'Well, obviously, I don't.' He didn't mean to snap but if anyone could take it, James could.

'You need it for that assignment?'

 _Assignment – prank_ or in this case, Sirius' self-appointed mission to get inside Dumbledore's office. He'd decided to confide in James his wish to speak with Phineas Nigellus. He knew that the reasons why didn't need to be said – James had heard everything there was to hear about the Blacks, including the twins, and Sirius didn't particularly feel like repeating any of it, lest he confirm any of it by doing so.

'Lyra's been annoyingly unhelpful.'

James snorted. 'And you expected anything different?'

Sirius glared at him.

'Maybe you should see if Remus has it.'

Sirius grumbled unintelligently at this. Remus was the first person he'd gone to when he couldn't find the map in his trunk.

'Peter!' James called out. Peter had just descended the stairs from the dormitory. 'You've seen that homework lying around someplace?'

'No,' he said, taking the seat next to Sirius. 'You all said that I'd probably lose it if I got to keep it. Maybe I would've surprised you all, if you'd trusted me just a little more,' he said matter-of-factly.

'Aw come on, Pete. We trust you, but you have to admit that you do tend to misplace a lot of things.'

Peter glared at James. 'Oh yeah? Name one.'

James grinned. Holding out a hand on which to count off. 'Last week's potion homework, the charms homework the week before that,' he said pointing to a finger after each one.

'The quill they gave you in the herbology OWL exam,' Sirius chimed in. 'That valentine you got from Elisa Tippet last year.'

'The valentine _I_ was going to give Lily in fourth year.'

'Although, if we're being honest that was probably worth losing.'

'Hey!'

Sirius quickly dodged James hand that had come up to slap him across the back of the head.

'Alright, you've made your point,' Peter said as James came around for another pass. 'But none of that stuff was important – _mostly_ none of it was important,' he added as James leered at him. 'But I would have taken care of that homework, would've kept track of it.' He leant back into the lounge. 'I guess now we'll never know though.'

Still smiling Sirius looked over to the boy. 'We're truly sorry, Pete. Please forgive us. If we ever find it again, we'll stow it away in your trunk.' Pete offered him a smug sort of smile which quickly turned into mock outrage when Sirius added, 'and hope for the best.'

'If we ever find it,' repeated James, frowning in thought. They all knew that it was too valuable to lose, now more than ever.

XXXXXXX

The small slivers of deep timber of the cluttered desk top shone in the warm light of the crackling fire. Amongst the clutter were strewn pieces of parchment filled with messy handwriting, some blotted with ink stains, others marked with very noticeable food stains. Various letters sat on the mess of parchment, along with a number of wands, empty vials and flasks.

In the centre of the desk lay a piece of parchment. It had been spread out and covered most of the clutter. In dark black it showed a map, labelled and detailed. It was a map of Hogwarts in it's entirety. And within the map small markings moved – moved through the various halls, corridors, classrooms and common rooms throughout the school. Each mark had a label – a person's name, and every name had a label.

The firelight flickered across it, throwing certain black-inked sections into stark contrast with the paleness of the parchment.

A clink of ice against glass cluttered in the near-silent room. A glass a quarter the way filled with a rich reddish liquid came to rest just to the side of the map and a dark shadow was thrown over the parchment.

He looked from the section that had held his attention for the last ten minutes to a slightly crumpled letter that sat next to it.

Picking it up he scanned over it once more.

 _I appreciate you keeping me updated but it would seem that much more attention needs to be given to this cause. We cannot afford anything to go amiss. There appears to be many more interested parties devoted in claiming a stake in **our** investment. We must proceed with much more caution if we are to see our plan bear fruit. _

_You said in your last correspondence that there is some sort of recreational day this weekend. In Hogsmeade if my memory serves me correctly. It is there and then that I will meet you so that you can give me a more comprehensive update on your progress._

 _Maintain focus and do not succumb to any temptation. Remember why you are doing this._

 _Make your family proud._

 _I will see soon._


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry about the long wait! I've had a bit of writer's block lately, but I'm hoping this long chapter makes up for things.**

 **Thanks to everyone who continues to follow/favourite this story and for those who take the time to leave a comment, it means so much to me you have no idea.**

 **I've made yet another change to the previous chapters (this will be the final time, promise!). At the start of every chapter there is a line from a later chapter in the story, feel free to speculate about their meaning and where they fit.**

 **I'm setting up a blog about my writing, Lyra will feature on there. There will be a section where I put up later spoiler chapters and additional info, soundtrack suggestions and a space for people to put up fan art they may want to share about Lyra and the Potterverse in general. I also do movie reviews that will feature there as well.**

 **Okay, enough from me. I hope you like this and please R+R**

* * *

' _That's just it, she was my – my friend and I don't feel anything.'_

* * *

'Well, I think it's safe to say it … we're screwed.' James looked around and blew out a long, exhausted sigh. He dropped an old, weathered keepers glove into his trunk, it hit the rim and landed on the floor beside it.

The dormitory was beyond a mess. All four trunks had been up-ended and now a swamp of detritus filled the floor – from graffitied books, broken quills, wrinkled clothes and several bottles bearing bright pink labels that read _No Hair – No Care Hair Shampoo_ (a gift for Snape). Desk drawers had been rifled through, their contents dropped carelessly onto the floor in an effort for the hidden corners of each drawer to be reached. Mattresses had been flipped, their adorning bed sheets tossed aside or bunched into a corner of the bed.

Remus and Peter were sitting on the ends of their ruined beds, the hangings of Peters were barely attached to the frame. Both were looking completely and utterly defeated.

Sirius, on the other hand, looked downright livid. His fists clenched and unclenched at a blurring speed, the muscle in his jaw quivered, pulsing in and out. All three of the others jumped when he slammed his trunk shut. His face flushed and an angry shade of red painted his cheeks as he surveyed the room. It had to be here, they obviously hadn't checked everywhere. The map was sitting in a dark corner somewhere, out of sight, waiting to be found. He spotted another possible hiding spot in an alcove between James and Remus' beds and quickly made for it, anticipation and frustration making his stomach clench uncomfortably.

He was halfway there when he was stopped by an arm, James' arm.

'Sirius, it's no use. We've looked, we've looked everywhere. It's not here.' He didn't even flinch when Sirius' frustration became too much and he yelled.

If they were going to stop him searching the room again, that was fine, he'd go somewhere else.

'Where are you going?' Peter called out after him.

'Just keep looking!' He yelled back, slamming the door shut behind him.

The Common Room was set at a soft hum of activity. The various tables around the room were now filled with open books, scrolls of parchment and quill and ink wells. Only half the books were being studied however, mostly it seemed the distractions of classmates, chessboards and the wireless had proved too much. Being a Saturday morning, normally it would have been fairly quiet. But what with it being a Hogsmeade day, groups of older students had decided to spend the morning catching up on homework they knew wouldn't have been able to finish in one Sunday. Younger students watched on jealously, turning from their own homework periodically to wonder about the days when they'd finally be able to visit the magical town.

For a moment, Sirius stood still, his eyes picking out multiple possible hiding places the map could be. The more he looked, the more possibilities he spotted. There were too many places and too many people. He wanted to yell out again but settled for clenching his fists and storming towards the Portrait Hole, leaving the Common Room altogether.

Merlin, did he need to hit something.

After twenty minutes of stalking the castle, though, Sirius entered the Great Hall even more frustrated and annoyed than ever. Now he _really_ needed to hit something.

In comparison to the Common Room, the Great Hall was just about empty. In fact, there was only one person sitting at the Gryffindor table.

'Black,' McKinnon said, nodding her head at him.

Sirius, still seething, headed over to the table and sat down opposite her.

'You know where Snape is?'

'Why?'

Sirius gritted his teeth. 'I need to hit something.'

She huffed out an unamused chuckle. 'Huh. Well I can safely say that he would probably be grateful when I say that no, I have absolutely no idea where Snape is.'

 _Just my luck._ Sirius rubbed at the sides of his head, trying his best to pretend she wasn't there, watching him, like a magizoologist studying an interesting creature.

She leant back and crossed her arms. 'You look a tad, irked.'

Sirius just glared at her.

'You know what they say, two heads are better than one.'

She tilted her head slightly to one side as he considered her, challenging him to say no. As always when in her presence, Sirius was teetering on the edge of frustration, confusion and amusement. After a moment, he caved … he always caved.

'I need to get into Dumbledore's office.'

Marlene frowned a little. 'Well, if you and James are half as troublesome as everyone thinks you are, and I think you are, then getting into the Headmaster's office shouldn't be any sort of problem for you.'

'Getting in isn't the problem,' Sirius snapped, 'it's getting Dumbledore out once I'm in.'

'Sounds like you need a distraction,' she said after a moment. 'And I'd find it impossible to believe that you don't have anything fitting that requirement on hand.'

As always, she didn't ask why, didn't look at him the way almost anyone else would have, with suspicion, maybe a little bit of trepidation. She just sat, watching calmly on, considering him as if he were an interesting riddle she thought she might have a shot at solving.

'I know I'm the model student and everything but somehow I still don't think Dumbledore's going to trust me enough to leave me alone in his office.'

'Really?' She said disbelievingly. 'Sirius, with all the stunts I know you've pulled and with all the other ones I can only guess at, you and probably the rest of your little group, should have been expelled ages ago. And yet you're all still here.'

Sirius couldn't tell whether she sounded impressed or if she was just stating facts.

'I think he'll be fine with it,' she said, taking a sip of her tea calmly. 'And if you get in there and you're still worried than just make it so he'll have to come back, make it so he doesn't want to let you go.'

He thought for a moment. She was being awfully cryptic but knew better than to ask her to elaborate. So instead he asked, 'Why are you helping with this?'

'A few reasons, boredom being the main one.'

Sirius rolled his eyes.

'And,' she said, 'if this all goes south then at least it'll provide some entertainment even just for a little while.'

'And Merlin knows that that's why we're here, to entertain you.'

'And he also knows that you do a bang up job of it too.'

Sirius snorted, smirking against his will. He looked around the Hall again, noticing how it had emptied even further. The only groups that seemed to take up the most bench space now were first and second years, no doubt trying to decide how to spend their day with an almost empty castle at their disposal.

Sirius turned to Marlene again, ignoring the fact that she hadn't stopped looking at him.

'Shouldn't you be with your friends or something?' He said, looking around. 'I mean, having them ditch you on the first Hogsmeade trip of term can't be a good sign.'

Now it was she who smirked. 'Yeah, because you walked in with a veritable army at your back.'

Sirius remembered storming out of the dormitory and his mood darkened again.

'Besides,' Marlene's voice cut through, 'who says that _they_ ditched _me_?'

Sirius looked up to see that someone had walked down the Hall and was now standing at Marlene's side, grinning at her, ear to ear. When Bertram Aubrey spotted Sirius, however, his grin slackened and he looked unsurely between the two.

Sirius felt both like laughing out loud and cursing the boy on the spot - his previous frustration still simmering uncomfortably in his chest. Wrestling with this he managed to push out a questioning, disbelieving smirk at him. 'Her? Really?' He said, pointing to Marlene, who simply raised an eyebrow, plain amusement shining in her eyes.

Aubrey spluttered for an answer for a moment, probably trying to figure out if the question was one he was expected to answer which made Sirius want to laugh even more.

'Oye! Sirius!'

James and Peter were standing at the entrance to the Hall, waving him over. _Now who's friendless? At least I won't be spending the day with a blundering idiot._ Sirius turned to tell Marlene this but she was already pushing away from the table.

'Well if you'd excuse me, Black.' She tied her scarf around her neck, not even looking at Aubrey who was still watching the two of them with a fair amount of hesitation. This grew further as Marlene leant across the table, lowering her voice. 'And if I see Snape, I'll be sure to let him know that you'd just love to catch up with him.'

Sirius stood from the table and gave her his best attempt at a gracious smile. 'Why thank you, McKinnon. And I do hope you have a lovely day with ...' He looked to Aubrey, narrowing his eyes in thought. '… your articulate friend.' His words were positively soaking in sarcasm and while Aubrey frowned, Marlene offered a crooked smile before walking away from him.

He watched her leave, Aubrey still throwing suspicious looks over his shoulder as he followed her out. Once they'd left the Hall, Sirius made his way over to James and Peter.

There were times when he just wanted to know exactly what that girl was thinking. It frustrated him to no end the way she always looked as if she had some sort of hidden agenda, and the way she smiled that little smile that warned that no matter what he did he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. And there was a small part of him that curtly reminded him that he should be grateful, that she helped Lyra in a way not he, nor anyone else could do. That small part though was easy to ignore. It made plenty of room for the much louder voice that told him not to trust her, that that smile could lead to nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, intrigue always seemed to have him coming back for more.

'Where's Remus?' Sirius had reached the others and had noticed the absence of their final number.

'Where do you think?' James smirked.

But Sirius was already thinking about something else. 'Lets go,' he said, taking the lead.

'Where are we going to first?' asked Peter, his voice high with excitement.

'That new place, Zonko's. We've got a distraction to make.'

Say one thing for Marlene McKinnon, she had her uses.

XXXXX

They exited Zonko's Joke Shop with significantly less coin in their pockets and laden with various products, all of which would make for an elaborate distraction.

Sirius felt like he was still treading water, but it had receded from somewhere around his chest to just above his waste. They had a way to get him in - they weren't called the Marauders for nothing - and they had a way of getting Dumbledore out. Only two more little details to work through.

How in the world was he supposed to have a half decent conversation with Phineas Nigellus' portrait without being over heard and overseen by numerous other portraits - portraits who he knew to be exceedingly nosey things. Maybe he could trick Evans into telling him the right charm? Maybe James could tell him how to momentarily transfigure all the other portraits into other things? He'd have to go to the library. Although his patience was already running out and merlin knew that scouring over books hoping to stumble across an incantation that might not even exist didn't help his anxiety.

The second dilemma he faced weighed just as heavily in his mind but he'd convinced himself that it would resolve naturally. Right now, though he didn't have a clue. He had no clue just what he was going to say to Phineas Nigellus.

How do you start a conversation with a thing that hated you probably as much as the rest of your family did? The drawing room at Grimmauld Place wasn't a room Sirius visited often but even so, he'd heard Phineas talk before. There was no doubt in his mind what he'd think about the twins less than gracious exit from the Black family. No doubt his great-great-grandfather would be raring to give him a lengthy lecture.

Sirius would just have to make sure that he had the first word. It was high time he had some answers and whether he wanted to or not, Phineas Nigellus would provide some.

Sirius stopped, nearly dropping his shopping onto the sodden ground. He blinked once, twice. He had to be imagining things.

For across the road, walking away from the Hog's Head Inn was a hunched, grubby looking witch. The same witch from Knockturn Alley.

'Sirius? Where are you going?' James called after him as he started off towards the Inn.

Sirius ignored him.

The memory of that day had become something of a nervous tick. Every time he managed to forget what happened something would make it replay in his mind's eye. He couldn't escape that old witch's hands, her words stayed with him long afterwards.

He stepped up to one of the bar's hazy windows. Cleaning it as best he could, he peered inside.

The Hog's Head was notorious for attracting some of the more … interesting members of the magical community, today proved to be no exception. The table closest to the front entrance was taken by what appeared to be a group of men, who – by the looks of their skin – could very well have been vampires. A cloaked something sat up by the bar and another group sat at one of the side tables. A group wearing robes. Hogwarts robes. Slytherin robes.

Rabastan fucking Lestrange.

Sirius looked back to where the witch had disappeared and then glared back through the window. An intense urge came over him to storm right in there and demand to know what he was playing at. He was sick and tired of Lestrange messing with him, and messing with Lyra.

He didn't even realise he'd clenched his fist and taken a step towards the door until James' hand clamped down on his shoulder.

'Whatever you're thinking about doing,' he said, looking over Sirius' shoulder into the Inn, 'don't.'

Shoving James' hand off, Sirius moved again, this time to where he'd seen the witch disappear.

It didn't take him very long to reach the place he'd seen her turn a corner. He turned as well and was met with a long, narrow alleyway. There were no side streets, no doorways to walk into and the end of it could be clearly seen. But the witch was not there.

His fists clenched again, he could feel his fingernails dig into his palms.

'It's alright, Padfoot. We'll get answers soon enough.'

Sirius ignored James. He didn't know. He didn't know about that day in Knockturn Alley. James only knew half of what was truly bothering Sirius. But he was right.

One way or another, it was time for some answers.

XXXXXX

All around her was still.

The light that had managed to cut through the dense canopy far above streamed down like falling silk. It shone watery-bright amongst the tree trunks. Even though it gave off very little warmth, it's light was enough to rouse the forest to life. Birds chirped, the sound of their beating wings rustled the still air.

From somewhere in the deeper parts of the trees, something let loose a crowing call. It echoed on the wind. Another call answered from a place much closer by. The two creatures continued to talk to each other in their metallic howls, a conversation not grown from hostility, but rather, curiosity. She could almost picture their faces.

And if she really paid attention, if she fell into the trees, the air, the mid-morning sun, she could almost _hear_ the petals on the flowers peeling slowly back towards the sun's light. She could almost hear the individual beats of the bee's wings, hovering above those same flowers, moving from one to another.

And if she sunk even further into the forest, with her eyes gently closed, her hands resting on the damp earth either side of her folded legs, she could feel the ripples rolling smoothly through the trees, the leaves, across the bee's backs, sparking with soft pops and fizzles around the unknown creatures. The ripples enveloped around her like the flames of a fire. She lost herself in its warmth and felt it as it changed, moved across her skin, on the air, how _she_ changed it, moved it, worked it as one worked clay. It rolled away from her and then was pulled back in. it was pushed to one said, and then folded in towards the other.

Then it shifted, a spark much larger then the ones currently crackling around the creatures fizzled from somewhere behind her. It continued to grow. The spark whispered to her, at first in warning, but then in welcome. For this spark was a familiar one and she focussed on it become closer, all the while, feeling the ripples surrounding her grow warmer, softer.

Soon the sound of crunching leaves accompanied the fizzling sparks. She did not open her eyes, choosing instead to take note of how they interacted with the ripples still stirring around her. It was a very pleasant sensation.

The footsteps in the leaves came to a stop and the sparks smoothed out into ripples of their own. They lapped up against the ones she could already feel. The two moved against one another, quickly finding a harmony, moving with each other.

She wasn't sure how long it stayed like that, focussing on nothing but the air around her. But nothing could last forever.

'You should see what you're doing right now.'

She didn't frown at the interruption, on the contrary, the awe lacing that comment had her smiling.

'Tell me.'

'It's almost as beautiful as you are.'

Slowly, she loosened her grip on the ripples. She stopped moulding them, pushing them, she let them settle and felt them lay to rest in the open space. Opening her eyes and looking around, she noticed how the flowers, the leaves, the grass, even the air itself, seemed to gleam, luminescent in the sunlight. With every passing second, the gleam began to recede, becoming steadily duller. The shadows darkened and spread and –

Lyra's breath caught.

 _Regulus?_

What was he doing out here? No one knew about this place, no one but her and Remus. How did he find her? Maybe he wanted to talk, finally.

She stood up and took a step towards where he stood, next to the trunk of a tree, no more than ten metres from her. She couldn't believe it, she'd been wanting to talk to him for weeks now.

And then he was gone. Just like that. And she could do nothing but stand and stare at the empty space.

'Lyra?'

She could still feel the ripples, but now they were more like a soft breeze brushing against her skin. She loosened the breath she'd been holding and turned to Remus, trying her best to smile. Thankfully, he returned it and closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around her.

'What did you tell the boys?' She asked, leaning back to look at him.

He smirked, leaning into her, bringing his mouth to her ear. 'Library.'

She tried to smirk back, tried to smile at least, but instead she stared at the place she'd seen Regulus. She didn't notice Remus press kisses to her jaw, moving slowly towards the side of her neck. The sounds around her slipped away, leaving nothing but a gnawing silence.

Remus moved, his hand slid across her stomach and the silence was broken.

Instinctively, Lyra stepped away, wincing at the scraping pain flaring from her stomach. Remus stumbled with her, arms held out as if expecting her to collapse.

'What? What's wrong?'

She hastily turned away from him, screwing her face up, trying to ride out the pain all the while making sure her breathing was under control. From behind her she heard Remus take another step closer.

'Nothing.' She tried not to snap, cursing herself for not really succeeding. Remus was smart enough to pick up on the fact that something was definitely wrong and that she was doing an absolutely lousy job at trying to hide it.

The pain began to subside and Lyra was able to unclench her fists, flexing her aching fingers. Still aware that Remus was watching her closely, she didn't turn around, but talked instead to a nearby tree.

'You can't fix everything,' her voice was so soft, she wasn't sure if she'd wanted him to hear or not, but of course, he did.

'I can't hope to try if I don't know what needs my help.'

'You want to help me? Well guess what, Remus, you can't! No one can help me, hell I'm having trouble even helping myself! The _only one_ who can help me is the one who did this to me in the first place. And he wants me dead! He tried to kill me!' The words scorched her throat, scratched at her tongue and pounded at her teeth and her head, trying to break free and unleash themselves onto Remus, the forest, the birds, anyone and anything that would listen. Gritting her teeth, she swallowed them back, sucking at her teeth and pursing her lips. She wouldn't whine like some ungrateful child. Things in life happened and you had to deal with them, or let them win. She wouldn't allow that. So she stayed quiet, staring with cold eyes at the tree.

'You may not think that I'll be able to help you, Lyra.' Later, she'd grin to herself at how well Remus could read her. Later, but not now. 'But, you'll never know if you don't try.'

'And if I did? What would be the point in trying?' _Other than to make you as miserable as me?_

'I'm sorry, I didn't realise you're a seer now, as well,' Remus ground out.

She turned and glared at him, arms held stiffly by her sides. 'As well as what?'

Remus rolled his eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathering. 'I'm not getting into this with you again, Lyra. I'm trying to help you!'

The words were too strong for her this time. 'Help with what!? What do you think's going on here, that I need your help with? It may have escaped your notice, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself.' She gestured to the surrounding forest, reminding him of what he'd just caught her doing. 'But please if you think there's a problem that I'm not already aware of than feel free to share it, otherwise drop it!'

For a moment Remus looked stunned and for a smaller moment, he looked something akin to scared – she'd recall his face in that instant later and be overcome with guilt and her own fear. A beat passed and his features morphed into annoyance and defeat. His neck relented and his head swung forward, his sandy hair falling in front of his eyes and he closed them.

When he opened his eyes again, they were scattered with the faintest flecks of amber. He looked at her, simply, the previous anger still a shadow on his face. She merely stood there, unmoving, breathing in short, soft huffs.

He turned to walk away but stopped after a few steps and half turned towards her. 'Happy anniversary.' He turned again and continued walking. Then he was gone.

She'd never know how long she stood there for, staring at the point he'd been standing with his head hung. It could have been a minute, an hour or half the day, she didn't notice anything until she finally blinked.

That simple movement, a simple flicker of the eyelids, was enough to pull her from the stupor she was in. She blinked again. Her hands were sore. She blinked again. Her head hurt. She blinked. She'd been yelling, she'd been angry. Another blink. Remus was here. Had she been yelling at him? She looked around the forest, as if an explanation would present itself, but everything was as it had been, the birds were chirping, the beasts from deep within the trees were once again calling out to one another.

And then she saw it, through the tree trunks, small and long, and dark, like a shadow … or a silhouette. One more blink and she was off after it.

The closer she moved to it, the further from her it became, like it was mirroring her actions, keeping pace with her in the opposite direction. Yet she kept going, because she knew who she was following. It was the same person she'd been following for weeks now. The same person she'd been having those awful dreams about. She _had_ to talk to him, she had to understand why it seemed _he_ didn't want to talk to _her._

She felt her excitement, the anticipation, grow when she noticed that she was closing the distance between them. His figure was becoming more and more defined through the trees. She didn't notice that she was softly whispering his name as she went, 'Regulus? Regulus.'

And just as quickly as he'd appeared, he vanished. And once more she was left, standing frozen wondering where he'd gone. A bird called from a branch near her head and she jumped. It called out again and this time she realised, with a jolt of panic, that it was an owl.

As soon as she noticed this, she began to notice everything else as well. She noticed how her breath fogged in front of her. She noticed how cold her face felt, the tip of her nose a red blur in the bottom of her vision. She noticed how light still shone down through the canopy, but that it was no longer coming from the sun. Moonlight weaved through the trees, washing everything in a pale, matted grey, making it seem like the world around her was made of stone.

Giving the forest one last desperate, sweeping look, she relented. Guessing at the direction of the castle, she turned and started to trudge towards it.

She kept urging herself to seek him out somewhere he couldn't escape. Confronting him at dinner or breakfast, occurred to her numerous times a day. But it was clear that he wanted to talk to her privately, without anyone else knowing, or watching, or listening.

Maybe he still didn't know what he wanted to say. She wasn't sure she knew yet either. Perhaps he couldn't, there was something preventing him from taking that extra step towards her. This scared her more than anything. The thought that he might be in trouble, and that _she_ might be the cause of that trouble, it bit at her lungs.

Small, flickering lights were now splitting through the trees. They illuminated patches of the castle's stone walls and Lyra sighed, letting relief pour through her. Not knowing what time it was, she just hoped that she hadn't missed out on dinner, she was starving.

A noise made all thoughts of Shepard's Pie fleeing her mind. She stopped walking, praying that whatever had made that twig snap was just an animal passing by.

But then that would mean she had luck on her side.

'Hello Lyra.'

She tensed even more at the voice.

'I thought it might be high time to talk about that dinner, don't you?'

* * *

 **Ten points to your house if you can tell me if you find the name of Marlene's 'articulate friend' at all familiar and from where ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Everything I write from this point forward, I write for ThatBadassDragonLady, ImsebastianstanButter, and Guest (whoever you are). Thank you for your encouragement.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

' _Are you trying to tell me, that if she were to kill him, then she'd be killing herself? That if one were to die, the other would too?' Lily's voice had tapered off somewhat towards the end of her train of thought. She wasn't sure what she was trying to say anymore, or what Remus was trying to say, truth be known, she wasn't sure of anything._

* * *

She didn't turn around.

Off in the distance, the many windows of the castle glinted through the tree line. Dinner would have started by now, given how dark it was, the sun's light a fading glow somewhere in the west.

For a fleeting moment she wondered if anyone had noticed that she wasn't at the Gryffindor table. Chances were they hadn't. She'd been known to spend a meal or two down in the kitchens every now and then. House elves were far less obtrusive than even the most well-meaning student, it was far quieter and had her far less on edge. If the others did eventually feel her absence, it probably wouldn't be until well after dinner had finished. Too late.

As a spot of light hit her periphery, she had to fight the urge to alert Sirius. Best not to be hasty about these things. If there was even the slightest chance she could get out of this – whatever this was – quietly than she'd take it. Alerting Sirius would only cause panic, and end in injury, most likely on his own part.

Lyra turned toward the source of the light. It shone from the tip of a wand, a wand being held by a tall, blonde headed wizard. He was smirking widely at her. When her eyes found his, the smirk grew. It was tight around the edges, struggling to contain his glee, no doubt at having found her in such a vulnerable position. A thought snagged at the corner of her mind. His having found her when she was so far from everyone else was a mighty big coincidence. But she'd think more about it later.

'How did you get inside the grounds?'

His grin seemed to flicker for a moment, clearly disappointed at the display of mere unconcerned curiosity rather than fear in her voice, like he'd no doubt expected there to be. It didn't take him long to recover, however and soon that cold, pompous smirk had resurfaced.

'Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?' He purred across the clearing to her.

She had to work hard to keep her face neutral instead of rolling her eyes.

'Why are you here, Rosier?'

'I told you. I thought we should finish the conversation that was started at dinner all those weeks ago.'

A sinking feeling descended with a rush deep in her gut. Despite this she stood firm. Never show hesitation – one of the few useful things her father ever taught her.

'That conversation,' she said, watching Rosier as he started to slowly circle her, 'was between your mother and my own. Perhaps they should be the ones to finish it.'

Rosier chuckled darkly. He was standing somewhere behind her now, the faint glow of his wand tip just reaching the space in front of her. No doubt he was hoping to scare her, maybe he was expecting her to wheel around, following his movements with nervous eyes and trembling hands.

He'd have to put on a better show than this before she'd have reason to be cautious, let alone scared. Some fool with a wand just wasn't enough, or fools, if what she was sensing was any indication.

But Rosier was as confident as could be. 'Well, you know how old women can be. They'd have us listening to them babble on all night long and yet we'd still learn nothing.'

'If you'd like to learn something,' Lyra raised an arm towards Hogwarts' twinkling windows, 'I'm sure Dumbledore would be happy to accommodate you. Something might actually sink in this time round.' The words were out in the open before she had a chance to stop them. She winced, and it had nothing to do with the wand now digging into her back.

'And people think you two aren't alike,' Rosier sneered sharply in her ear.

 _Clearly the people who say such things are idiots._ Thankfully, she managed to bite these words back before they could escape. The damage, however, was done. As Rosier stepped around to face her, his smug façade had all but dropped completely, making way for the frustration she'd felt rising quickly ever since he'd approached her.

'And I have no doubt that I'm about to learn all that I want and more, right here.'

Glaring at him, Lyra did a quick assessment. Rosier was normally harmless, his confident bravado thankfully didn't transfer into any actual talent. But she'd never seen him truly lose control, he could prove to be a problem if he was unstable. Then there were those who hadn't revealed themselves yet, those waiting in the trees in case they were needed. She'd guess there were about two or three, from the power they were emitting, they didn't pose too much of a threat.

Just when she was thinking how easy it would be to disable them, Lyra felt an uncomfortable twisting in her gut, followed by a sudden, brief wave of dizziness. She was so hungry, she could feel how light her stomach was, it was the same lightness she was feeling in her head. No, she'd wait for Rosier to make matters worse.

That didn't necessarily mean that she had to humour him, however.

'And what is it that you're wanting an education on?'

'Come now, Lyra,' his humour was back. Maybe he was more unstable than she'd thought. 'Let's not play games here. We're friends after all,' he cocked his head to the side, 'aren't we?'

She didn't answer.

'I want to know if the rumours are true.'

'What rumours?'

He ground his teeth. 'Don't play games with me, Lyra.'

'I have no idea if the supposed facts surrounding the rumours are true or not.'

Rosier huffed a frustrated, humourless smirk. 'Huh. A typical pureblood – provide an answer but give nothing away.'

She stifled her irritation at this comparison. 'And even if I did, why would I tell you?'

'Because you're a smart girl, Lyra.'

Yes, she was, which is why she didn't so much as blink when he slowly closed the space between them. She felt somewhere between wanting to grin and wanting to vomit. Before her was a child, desperately trying to fit in with the grownups. But what children lack in tact, they more than make up for in volatility. Rosier stopped his advance when he'd closed the gap to within a metre, looking at her with an amount of softness that had her more on edge than she had been so far.

'It must have been so hard for you, being snatched so violently from your home – from those who care the most about you.' He reached out and took a strand of hair that had worked its way loose from her bun whilst she'd been running through the trees. It slid smoothly through his fingers, she didn't move one tense muscle. 'And then to wake up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people. But you're here now, among friends, if only you choose to acknowledge them. You've always been the victim of his brashness. No one blames you for it.' He let the strand of hair drop.

Lyra blinked. Only half her focus was being put into listening to Rosier's speeches. The rest was currently being employed to fight off the sudden waves of nausea rolling through her head, making its way like white rapids down her spine and into her stomach. Grinding her feet into the dirt, it took her a moment to realise that no one was talking, and another moment after that to process what had been said.

She straightened her fingers as they started to prickle hotly.

'And seeing as we're friends, how about answering those questions?' He had obviously taken Lyra's silence as some sort of agreement. His blind confidence in his ability to control the current situation was really starting to become annoying.

'Well as much as I would love to assist you, Rosier, you have yet to state any question in which I can answer.' She was tempting luck, she knew it, but the need to get back to the castle was occupying the majority of her mind, leaving little room for strategies and the like.

'Are the rumours true?' Rosier snapped.

'What rumours?'

For the smallest second, Rosier looked like he'd attack her. He leant forwards slightly, almost as if a strong gust of wind had lulled him forwards, before rolling back onto his heels, perhaps thinking better of it. Lyra's fingers twitched in response. Thankfully the action went unnoticed by Rosier and, given that no one had jumped suddenly from the trees, their hidden audience hadn't either.

'My mother hasn't come this far in life by making unfounded accusations.' Rosier's face was quickly turning an ugly shade of red – made darker by the dim light of wand and moon. 'Something had her mighty intrigued that night. And I do not doubt that those feelings would be limited to the occupant of the seat in which she sat at your dining table. Surely you must see her same expression on all who pass through your family's door. I am not asking for much, Lyra. I have always been honest with you, have I not? My mother made mention of a rumour that night around the dining table. A rumour about a wealthy witch and some manner of potion, do you recall the one? All I wish to know is if you are aware of it's authenticity.'

 _Hesitation is weakness._ 'I don't,'

'Stop toying with me!' Rosier shouted and Lyra really _did_ flinch this time. 'I know you've heard them! You've had to. _I_ can't escape them and they're not even about me!'

Lyra took half a step away from him. Rosier was raving. Spit flew from his mouth and he'd begun to pace with manic speed before her. The grip on his wand had tightened to white-knuckled intensity and, even in the dark, she could tell his face had deepened another dangerous shade of red.

Suddenly the humour had been sucked from the air like venom from a wound.

She watched him with wide eyes, listening for any sort of movement from the trees, trying to predict what would happen next – which, at the moment, was almost an impossible task.

Rosier turned to her, still slightly breathless, but his eyes were softer – almost pleading. 'I just need you to tell me yes or no. Are the rumours true?'

Lyra tried to think, tried to think of anything she could do or say to stall her answer, to buy her just a little more time. But she couldn't tell him anything. To deny it would be a lie he surely wouldn't believe, and if she was truly ignorant the moment to admit it had long since passed. Admitting that she knew anything about the rumours was simply not an option. But she couldn't risk provoking him further either. Thankfully a short, dagger-sharp laugh sliced the air. She was horrified, however, to see that it was coming from Rosier in another absurd shifts of moods.

'I remember the stories my father used to tell me.' His head was hung slightly, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. 'Of the extremes some people will go to in the name of – well of their name.' His eyes found hers once more. 'Imagine it. Imagine scouring through the depths of the worst dregs that society has to offer. And thinking that it will end up working in your favour.' He chuckled at the joke Lyra didn't get. 'Unfortunately, the world rarely works so cleanly. Wouldn't you agree?' He sniggered again when Lyra's head suddenly snapped to a nearby cluster of tress, a branch wobbling in the still night air. 'Sirius won't snatch you away this time, Lyra.'

She didn't look away. Rosier followed her line of sight and spotted the branch, it's leaves still rustling back into stillness.

'Ah,' he grinned coldly. 'How remiss of me. I have yet to introduce you to some friends of my own. Hopefully the prospect of having new ears to entertain will make you a bit more willing to share, perhaps? Merlin knows that that would be more than enough incentive for your mother.'

Lyra had stopped listening to him. She'd stopped grinding her heels into the earth, had stopped tensing her muscles instinctively. Her limbs slackened, her teeth tensing in their place. The itching in her hands swelling into great pulses of heat as Fenrir Greyback stepped out of the trees.

'You!'

All thought of control vanished like fog in a hot sun. She ran at Greyback, the sound of her rushing blood pushing her forward.

She was mere metres from the werewolf, arms starting to rise, when a jet of red light shot from the trees to her left and hit Greyback squarely in the chest, knocking him unconscious to the forest floor. Another jet of light shot from the trees, this time striking Rosier in the temple, he too fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Lyra flung around, ready to take on whoever it was who'd thought they could stop her.

She wasn't quick enough.

The last thing she saw before she fell into blackness was a burst of red and a pair of great glowing, green eyes.

XXXXXXXXX

'I found her while I was walking back from Hogsmeade.' Sirius ignored the look of deep confusion and worry being sent his way. Let James think what he wanted, it wasn't him that Sirius was trying to fool at the moment.

Dumbledore held his gaze, one long, steady, unwavering, searching look. He was obviously trying to decide just how much truth was in that answer.

It was a good enough lie, not one of his best, but it was plausible enough. The clearing he'd found her in was near enough a path that wound from one of the less frequented parts of Hogsmeade to the dark forest that boarded Hogwarts' grounds. It was possible that Sirius had been retuning from Hogsmeade – well after everyone else had already returned to the castle – and had heard, well whatever had been going on.

Thankfully, for the sake of this lie at least, Sirius had not been at dinner either. Neither Dumbledore, nor any other teachers had seen him since he'd left for Hogsmeade earlier in the day. Not feeling well, he'd convinced James and the others to have dinner in the kitchens. It was whilst they were eating and being entertained by the hustle and bustle of the numerous hard-working house elves, that Sirius had felt it. A wave of intense, burning hatred, anger, rage. It was so overwhelming that he'd thought he was going to vomit because of it. But the anger wasn't his. It was like being pushed into a deep pool of someone else's mind, of someone else's emotions. And he knew whose it was, the only person's it could be.

He'd rushed from the kitchens and held onto that rage, letting it guide him like a compass out of the castle and into the forest. He didn't stop running until he reached a clearing. He didn't even stop to consider whether it was empty or not. He'd rushed straight to her unconscious side, picking her up, ignoring the others, and taking her straight to the infirmary. It was the last place she'd want to wake up in, but in that moment, and even now in this one, he knew he had bigger things to concern himself with. And so did she, apparently.

The horror of what had happened didn't set in until after he'd placed her down on the hospital bed a flustered Madam Pomfrey ushered him to. That time he'd spent rushing through the castle and onto the grounds had been like the momentary shock one got between stubbing your toe and waiting for the pain of it to arrive.

The shaking was the first thing to start. From the tips of his fingers, it rattled straight through to his spine, travelling along it, down to the soles of his feet and up to the roots of his hair. He thought that sitting might calm it but it just made him restless, agitated. He paced before the foot of her bed, rubbing his temples with the palm of his hands whilst Pomfrey checked Lyra. The others were still as stone and almost as pale as Lyra was.

The scene was actually eerily similar to that of a few weeks ago, when they had found Sirius and Lyra broken and bloodied, with the exception of Peter, who was looking the palest of them all. He glanced around the room, eyes bouncing from Madam Pomfrey to the door, to Sirius. He seemed to be avoiding Lyra completely. But then Peter had always tried not to focus on pain but rather on a way out, a solution. No doubt he was waiting for Dumbeldore's arrival.

Remus sat on the bed next to Lyra's watching, unblinking, as she lay motionless. He absentmindedly wrung his hands, the skin tight and glistening with sweat. The light from a nearby candle flickered in his eyes, illuminating them, illuminating their hardness, the light giving them a soft amber glow.

James looked between the twins, suspicion and worry battling for dominance. Worry clearly won his eyes, it shone through undiluted, pinching a crease in his forehead. The suspicion flared every so often, deepening that crease, narrowing his eyes as he remembered the robotic way Sirius had rushed to his sister's side. Sirius could see it deepen even further as James no doubt thought how strange it was that Sirius even knew where to look in the first place. No one had seen Lyra all day. She'd not been seen in the Common Room that morning, nor had they come across her in Hogsmeade. So how did Sirius know where she'd be? And how did he know to go to her at the moment he did?

All good questions, answers to which Sirius wasn't about to divulge to Dumbledore however, no matter how long he tried to stare him into submission.

Thankfully, Dumbledore shifted in his seat after a moment, the battle was over, at least for now.

'And you cannot think of a reason she may have been in the grounds at this time of night?'

Sirius kept his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's. 'No.'

The tension thickened and hung in the air for a moment before it fizzled out with Dumbledore's short sigh. He leant back in Madam Pomfrey's office chair, looking marginally more relaxed but more serious all at the same time.

'And can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your sister?'

 _How long have you got?_ The number of people on _that_ particular list had always been fairly long. Over the past few months it had no doubt doubled to a worrying size. He imagined that there would be more than one member of the Slytherin house fighting for the top spot of who wanted to hurt the traitorous Black twins more – a fact he was on the way to make clear to the Headmaster when the office door swung open.

'Professor.' It was Peter, looking just as panicked as he had been when Dumbledore strode into the Hospital wing and asked to see Sirius, James and Remus in private. That had only been a few minutes ago.

Peter rushed from the room just as quickly as he'd appeared and it was clear that he meant for Dumbledore to follow. Sirius shared a quick, nervous look with the others before falling into step behind Dumbledore.

As soon as they crossed the threshold into the Hospital Wing, he knew something was wrong.

He brushed past Dumbledore and ran straight to Lyra's side. She hadn't moved. Taking the same chair he'd been sitting in before he was called away, he took her hand. Her fingers were the same colour as the rest of her skin. From what he could tell, her condition hadn't changed at all. So what had the matron so worried?

Pomfrey was focussed fully on Lyra. She waved her wand in complicated patterns, frowning deeper after everyone. It was only when Dumbledore stood beside her that she looked at him. And even then, all she seemed to have time for was a furtive glance of acknowledgement before frowning down at Lyra again.

'What seems to be the problem, Poppy?' Dumbledore asked, calmly as ever.

Without looking at him, Pomfrey's voice was forcefully clinical. 'Something was preventing me from performing any diagnostic charms, but then I discovered this,' she leant over and lifted Lyra's shirt, exposing her torso.

Sirius stopped thinking. Horror swept his mind like a wind storm in a desert. His heart dropped into his stomach, his stomach dropped to his feet.

Carved across the length of his sister's stomach, the three scars, gifted to her by their father, stared hauntingly up at him. Their menacing glower was made so much more sickening by the festering black tendrils creeping from the wound like ivy on a dying wall. Even the skin they hadn't reached yet seemed to be polluted by them nonetheless, it had turned grey, patches of purple and shades of green littering the otherwise smooth expanse.

Sirius didn't notice anything but those three scars. He didn't notice that way Remus stopped walking, mid-stride, his mouth hanging open, his eyes flashing without the aid of any candlelight. He didn't notice James, looking more horrified than anyone had ever seen him., or Peter who actually gave a tiny whimper. He didn't see Dumbledore frown for the first time, or the way Madam Pomfrey grimace.

He only barely heard her when she gave a small cough. 'These wounds are fairly old from what I can gather. Dorea Potter mentioned it in her report.' Pomfrey looked to Dumbledore and didn't look away. 'I don't think she was attacked, Professor.'

XXX

'He's been sitting there for a good while now, he's actually looking kind of faint.'

Sirius wouldn't move. He hadn't moved a muscle for going on an hour. His eyes had gone blank, his hands still wrapped around one of Lyra's. But even though his jaw was clenched unbelievably tight, he had become parchment-pale, his shoulders had hunched further and further until his elbows were resting on the side of her bed.

'Should we give him some pepper up potion?' James looked across the room to where Madam Pomfrey was rifling through her stock of various potions.

Peter shook his head. 'Do we really want him to be … y'know, _more_ energised right now? Maybe it's best if we just leave him be.'

James couldn't help but agree. 'Well we should bring up some food for him at least.' He realised that, even if they managed to bring a feast into the Hospital Wing, Sirius probably wouldn't be up for eating anything, or speaking, or doing anything for that matter. But they had to do something, standing around like this was driving him insane.

He wasn't the only one. Remus hadn't said anything for … well, now that he thought about it, James didn't recall Remus saying anything since they'd found Lyra in the forest. Clapping him on the back, James attempted a smile.

'C'mon, Moony, let's go get something to eat.' It was like moving a puppet. Remus allowed James to steer him from the room. 'Pete, stay here, yeah? Keep an eye on him.'

Peter nodded numbly.

It wasn't until they'd gone down two flights of stairs before one of them said anything, and it surprised them both when it was Remus.

'I know why she was out there.'

James didn't look at him. Remus was a person of patience. Whatever it was he had to say, he'd get to it eventually. It was best not to rush these things.

They turned another corridor, one that sent them very close to the library. The corridor was bustling and they had to weave through the crowd, looking fixedly ahead. They'd reached halfway down the corridor before Remus answered the question that James had yet to ask.

'She was there to meet me.'

'Huh. Special occasion?'

'Anniversary,' Remus said shortly, not used to discussing the nature of their relationship.

To avoid any further discomfort, James merely nodded, quickly making his way down the stairs into the fourth-floor corridor. It was considerably quieter down here, though the buzz of activity from somewhere in front of them was growing louder with each passing step. The sudden lull in atmosphere soon had James pushing to fill the silence.

'You didn't tell Sirius.' Even he didn't know if it was a question or not.

Remus snickered. 'Would you?'

James winced slightly. Remus had a point. Whilst Sirius knew that his sister was seeing one of his best friends, there'd been an unspoken agreement between all who knew about it that it was to be kept as discrete as possible. Therefore, Remus and Lyra acted just as two friends would whilst in public, and everyone else had learnt to play along. And under normal circumstances Sirius would have accepted that an anniversary was a valid reason to break this unspoken pact, but these weren't normal circumstances.

They all knew how the Black twins got if the other was in any way compromised.

'I didn't realise that you two were at the anniversary stage already.' He tried in earnest to grin but Remus' solemnity wasn't budging.

'Yeah, six months,' Remus said, scratching absentmindedly at a scar on his cheek. 'We were going to spend the day together, but ...' he tapered off, but he didn't need to explain. Remus had caught up with them just after midday and he had _not_ been in a good mood. They didn't ask him about it, no matter how much Sirius looked like he wanted to.

'Hang on,' James grabbed Remus' arm. He didn't pay any attention to the fact that they'd stopped right in the middle of what was now a rather crowded archway. 'Then, that means you left her around midday.' Remus raised his eyebrows in exasperation. 'What was she doing out there for so long?'

For a moment he could see Remus' mind working it over. The initial frown as he was probably thinking to himself _well she obviously fainted after I left_. But then realisation hit, comprehension slipping onto his face, his features drooping, melting, flattening into horrifying, sickening confusion.

They both knew. Whatever had Sirius drawn to Lyra happened because she was in danger. They'd seen it before. The pull – whatever is was – was instantaneous. Sirius didn't find her till they were sitting down for dinner in the kitchens. Which meant Lyra was out in the forest, alone, for hours – doing what, however, was the question James wanted to know above all others.


	15. Quick New Content Update

**I know, I know ... You're probably all getting sick and tired of these Author Notes (To be honest I'm a little sick of writing them - I really want to give you guys new chapters!)**

 **But I've spent all day yesterday and half of today thinking about plot lines and the characters who I want to explore. In order for me to do this and successfully manage all the plot lines that are going on at once in this story so far (I think there's about three at the moment) I really needed to do some editing.**

 **There's new content added to Chapter 1 (just after the beginning), Chapter 6 (in the middle), Chapter 7 (at the beginning) and at the end of Chapter 10. All other chapters have merely been edited with some minor changes made but nothing that's vitally important - just me being nit-picky.**

 **I AM writing new stuff - it's just stuff that happens much late on down the track. This coming week though, I'm going to try and dedicate to Chapter 15 and plot lines.**

 **I've just started to not make each chapter up on a whim, but if there's anything you'd like to see more of, or something you'd like to see happen please leave me a review and I'll try my best to see it done.**

 **Thanks for sticking in there with me guys and I promise some new stuff will be up soon!**


	16. Chapter 15

**First off, Happy Easter long weekend to all those who celebrate it!**

 **Here's chapter fifteen, the longest chapter yet – I still can't believe how long this story is getting! With all the extra scenes that will be published well down the line, sitting on my computer, the page count for this is closing in on 150!**

 **I'm trying to make things a little less vague but I'm still not sure if I'm succeeding. Things will make sense eventually, but I'm trying to give you guys straws to clutch at.**

 **Well here it is, please Read and Review!**

 **PS I couldn't decide on an opening quote for this chapter, but I'm hoping that you guys will forgive me. Sorry.**

* * *

'James! James!'

The voice, wherever it was coming from, was getting louder and louder. Unfortunately, Remus and James had decided to stop in the middle of a very crowded corridor, so it was impossible to know who was shouting until they were standing right next to them.

Lily grabbed hold of James' arm as soon as she reached him, almost as if she were expecting him to see her and run in the opposite direction. 'I've just heard! Is she okay? What happened?' She looked from James to Remus. 'I mean, what was she doing out there? How did you find her? Who –'

'Lily!' James put a hand on top of hers. 'She's okay, she's safe.'

Lily opened her mouth, no doubt to start a fresh barrage of questions but James beat her to it. 'Calm down, she's safe. Dumbledore's seen her, so has Madam Pomfrey.'

Remus was only half paying attention to them, instead busying himself with scanning the corridor thinking about what James had just said. _What had she been up to? Surely she couldn't have just been in the forest doing nothing for all those hours after he left to when they'd found her._ He thought about Pomfrey's claim that she hadn't been attacked. _Well not tonight anyways._ But something about that just didn't sit properly with him.

He looked into the face of every person he could see, trying to flush out anyone who looked even mildly suspicious. Laughing, talking, some grumbling, but no hushed whispers or nervous glances. His eyes darted from one person to the next, only turning back to James and Lily's conversation when he spotted someone behind James' shoulder who was heading straight for them, and who didn't look happy.

James was still trying to calm Lily down. He was shaking his head, his hands on her shoulders. 'She's in the Hospital Wing, Sirius is with her. I don't think she's up for any more visitors tonight.'

Remus winced as Marlene pushed through the middle of James and Lily, clipping James on the shoulder as she went. 'After me that is.'

Remus side stepped out of her path and she strode past him without even so much as a sparing glance in his direction. He heard James groan as they watched her go.

'Merlin's sake. Marls!'

Remus watched him go, weaving in and out of the crowd, but Marlene was quicker. They disappeared around the corner and out of sight one after the other.

XX

'Marls, wait!' Finally he'd worked his way through the crowded hallway and had managed to catch up to her. He stretched out and grabbed hold of her shoulder, spinning her around to face him.

'What?' She snapped and James let go of her immediately, taking a step back.

'What do you think you're doing?'

'I'm going to go see my best friend, who's lying in a hospital bed right now!' She turned and went to continue on but she didn't get far before James stopped her again.

'She's being taken care of! Okay? Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore are both there, and so is Sirius!' He knew how frustrated she was, his frustration was just as bad, if not worse, but a raging Marlene McKinnon was just not what anyone needed.

'What're you saying, James? That I can't help? And how the hell is Sirius supposed to help?'

'He's her brother! Her twin! And the last thing _anyone_ needs is the two of you at each other's throats!' He didn't mean to shout at her and the guilt hit him like a punch to the gut as soon as he'd stopped, but sometimes she just needed a bit of tough love and, Merlin help him, this time it was his turn to give it to her.

Marlene stood for a moment, glaring evenly across at him, hands clenched at her sides. James winced internally, knowing that this was either the calm before the storm, or the end of the fuse before it fizzled out. He almost sighed a breath of relief when she blinked. That blink was as good as her throwing up her hands in surrender.

James was just about to suggest turning around and resuming the path back to the kitchens when a burst of laughter sounded at the end of the corridor. Turning towards it, he spotted a group of students crossing the corridor. He felt himself go hot with anger when he saw who they were.

As soon as they saw James and Marlene, Snape, Avery and Lestrange stopped laughing and turned to snickering. Avery leant towards Lestrange whispered something to him. They both burst out in another fit of laughter.

'Hey, Potter!' Lestrange called out, still snickering. 'Why so tense?'

'Yeah! You look faint, mate!' Avery shouted, barely containing his glee.

James took a step towards them, he even opened his mouth to shout back, but then he spotted Snape. Unlike his sniggering house mates, Snape was apparently not in a joking mood. His glare was sour and disapproving, and he wasn't just glaring at James and Marlene but he turned it on Avery and Lestrange as they let out another guffaw.

They disappeared around a corner and James glared after them.

'Marls, the news that Lyra had been attacked, who did you hear that from?'

From beside him, Marlene scoffed. 'Who do you think?' She asked, nodding her head to where the group of Slytherin's just were.

James supressed the urge to growl. He hadn't missed Avery's quip about being faint. _Lyra was unconscious when we found her. The Slytherin's know, they know about Lyra. And I'd bet anything that they know who attacked her._

'I think it's time we have a chat to our friends in the Snake Pit,' James growled through clenched teeth.

XXXXX

Sirius jumped when the Hospital Wing doors slammed open. The muscles in his neck – sore and stiff – groaned in protest as he turned to see who had entered. He thought it might be James or Remus coming back from wherever they ran off to, or Peter coming back from the bathroom, or even Dumbledore again, coming to check up on things. He wasn't expecting to see Professor Antone advancing towards him, a scowl on his young face. And not his usual contemplative sort of scowl either. Actually, he looked quite angry.

'Ah, Professor.' Madam Pomfrey swept over to him, her hands full of various potion bottles, and met him in the middle of the room.

'The Headmaster told me that you required my assistance,' Antone recited, not even looking at Pomfrey as he scanned the beds.

He stilled when he came to the bed Lyra lay in, either not noticing, or not caring about the glare Sirius was giving him. Sirius didn't really have that much against the man, really – other than the fact that he knew far too much about the Dark Arts for it not to be suspicious. But he just found that all his looks were coming across as glares. He couldn't seem to open his eyes wide enough not to glare, and he didn't have the strength to try and force them.

Antone started towards the bed, leaving Madam Pomfrey to scramble after him. She quickly made her way to Lyra's bedside table and freed her hands. Antone did nothing but stand at the foot of the bed, looking down impassively at Lyra.

With a simple nod of the head, Antone gave Pomfrey the permission she apparently needed to move.

Sirius felt a hand touch his shoulder, and for some reason, he let go of Lyra's hand. He would have asked them what the hell was going on if he hadn't been so exhausted. So, instead, he just sat back in his chair and looked from Pomfrey, who was now folding down the bedding around Lyra, to Antone, who watched silently on.

When Pomfrey's hand gripped the bottom of Lyra's hospital shirt, about to peel it back and reveal the awful wound, Sirius looked to the Professor.

Antone's scowl grew darker, his lips clenched tight with white fury and Sirius knew, knew that the Professor was now looking at what his father had done to her.

His voice – normally cool and steady – came out slightly strangled as he said, 'These aren't fresh.'

Sirius went to respond, what he would have said, he'd never knew because Madam Pomfrey had already started.

'No,' she said, moving the bottles she'd just put down to get to the parchment underneath it. 'Here's the report provided to us by ex-Healer Potter. She was the first person to discover and treat Miss Black's injuries.'

Antone took it and tore his eyes away from Lyra long enough to read through the report quickly. He paused and finally looked to Sirius, his frosted blue eyes piercing into Sirius' own.

'Your father? He did this?'

There was no warmth, no sympathy, no compassion, not even curiosity to this question. Sirius would almost be tempted to say that it was purely factual if not for the fact that there was a level of acidity to it.

He nodded and Antone's eyes narrowed dangerously. If possible, the white skin around his lips – tight from their being pursed so strongly – grew whiter still. It was a surprise that a growl didn't escape him.

Sirius' glare became a frowning one. There seemed to be something personal in Antone's reaction. As if it was _his_ sister they were talking about. But why would he take Sirius' father's attack on Lyra so personally?

Merlin, he was tired.

Antone's fury held a moment longer before he released a long sigh through his nose, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He took one last look at the parchment in his hands before looking at Madam Pomfrey.

'Is there anything else?'

Pomfrey nodded and pulled Lyra's shirt and bedding back over her before ushering Antone into her office.

As soon as they were out of sight, Sirius reached out and took Lyra's hand again. Let Antone and Pomfrey do their research, look through their reports. They couldn't help her. He could though. Sirius was the only one who could help her, he was the only help she needed.

XXXXXX

Finally, finally he'd found someplace quiet, someplace peaceful. Nothing could touch him now. And now that he was here, he never wanted to leave. He felt so relaxed, more relaxed than he'd felt in a very long time. He didn't want to leave, he couldn't leave, he wouldn't leave.

If only that thing would stop bothering him. Whatever it was it was getting annoying, it was bothering the stillness and he wanted it to stop. But it was persistent.

It prodded at the corner of his mind … and it was saying something.

Sirius tried to fight it, but it was pulling him out of the calm until the voice was crystal clear, until the world was slowly blinked into focus and all he could see was blonde hair and blue eyes, staring down at him.

'C'mon,' she said, squeezing his arm.

'Where are we going?'

But she didn't answer him. He let her take his hand and let her guide him out of his seat. She dropped his hands as soon as he was standing, then she was off towards the Hospital Wing doors. For some reason unknown to him, he followed her, just like that, he didn't even look back.

His mind had gone silent. His body followed Marlene from the rom, like she was pulling on a string that had him on the other end.

She always stayed a few paces ahead of him, walking as if it were just another night, as if she was coming back from the Library, or back from the Great Hall. She never once looked behind her to see if he was following, she just trusted that he was.

When she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she waited until he'd caught up. Even when he was standing beside her, she didn't look at him, just said the password and ignored the Fat Lady's pointed look between the two of them as she swung herself open.

Thankfully, the Common Room was completely empty when they entered. Although maybe it wasn't all that surprising given that it was closing in on two o'clock in the morning.

Sirius had every intention of climbing the stairs and falling straight into bed, but now that he was here, he found that he'd run out of energy to go even that far. So, instead, he walked across the room to his favourite armchair and lowered himself into it.

Marlene waited for a moment before strolling over to the armchair opposite.

For the longest time, they just sat there, staring into the flames. Well, Sirius was staring into the flames. Marlene was flicking from the flames to Sirius. But for possibly the first time since he'd known her, Sirius didn't care about how she looked at him. And for the first time, the silence they shared was one of complete calm, one of solemn understanding.

But some things never change.

'She'll be alright.'

Sirius barely even flinched.

'I heard Antone talking. He said he'd be able to … to cure her.'

Sirius shook his head. 'It's not that.'

Marlene leant forwards, but she didn't say anything, didn't ask, didn't prompt, just waited.

'You're pureblood, aren't you, McKinnon?' From her raised eyebrow, it was clear that this isn't what she'd been expecting. 'You probably heard about us even before you came here.'

Marlene leant back in her seat, crossing her arms. 'Of course,' she said ever so plainly. 'It's a hard rumour to get away from, even as children.' Sirius went to speak again but she was still watching him. 'If your next question is to ask me whether or not I believe it,' she paused, frowning slightly, 'I haven't decided yet.'

Sirius huffed a puff of air through his nose. It might have passed as a smile or a smirk even, had his mouth moved even a little.

'Unfortunately, at this stage, your guess would be as good as mine.'

He still hadn't looked at her, but she didn't need him to. It was like she knew what he was thinking just by watching him stare into the fire.

'You think whatever happened tonight has something to do with it?'

Sirius responded only by sucking on his teeth.

'What _do_ you think happened tonight?'

'I don't know.'

Neither of them spoke for a time, they just watched the flames dance amongst themselves in the hearth.

'My mother always tried to shelter us,' Sirius said, his voice soft yet clear over the crackling of the fire. 'She'd never really let us out of the house, Lyra especially. Whenever we'd go to Diagon Alley, we'd only go to where we needed. We never lingered, never talked to anyone and she would always, without fail, be holding onto Lyra's hand. Like she expected Lyra to run or something, or she was waiting for someone to just come up and take her.'

Marlene did not dare interrupt him. This could possibly be the most he'd ever said to her without provocation. Something was telling her that what she was hearing now was something that not even James had heard.

Sirius twisted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position or simply because he needed to so something to try and remind him that he was at Hogwarts. Speaking about his mother – his life before – wouldn't mean that he'd be dragged back there.

'At first, I thought that it was just because she was a girl – that my mother was trying to protect her, thinking her frail. It only occurred to me later, when I could understand the rumour better, that she might have been trying to protect everyone else.'

'Lyra isn't dangerous, Sirius.'

For the first time since they'd left the Hospital Wing, Sirius lifted his gaze and met Marlene's.

There was everything she'd expected to see, worry, frustration, panic, a little anger, and that conspiratorial gleam that she thought impossible for him to lose. But there was something else there too. Fear. Fear perhaps over Lyra's current state or over their conversation, she couldn't be sure.

'Do _you_ believe the rumours, Sirius?'

It might be possible that this was the first time he'd ever been asked this.

Sirius blinked a few times, looking around the dark room, trying to find an answer somewhere amongst the shadows. After a few seconds, he found her again and said, 'I haven't decided yet.'

Marlene was relieved to see a ghost of a smile as he repeated her words back to her. But then it slid off just as quickly as it had appeared.

'I think I can find out though.' He clenched his jaw as he returned to look into the flames. 'I just need to talk to a …' he hesitated, 'a portrait that hangs in Dumbledore's office.'

Marlene allowed herself to frown for only a fraction of a second before she slapped her hands to her knees. 'Right,' she said, pushing herself up out of the chair and walking to stand in front of Sirius.

He looked up at her, confusion obvious as he waited for her to do something.

'Come on.'

And for the second time that night, she took hold of his hand gently. And for the second time that night, he let her.

This time, she didn't let go until they were outside, walking away from the portrait of the Fat Lady who was shouting after them to make their minds up, and reminding them that it was after curfew.

The pair padded through the empty halls in silence before it was broken.

'You think that whoever it is you're going to talk to is going to be able to help?'

For a moment, she thought she'd gone too far. Maybe he'd already shared everything he was willing to share. The fact that he'd already told her so much was strange considering the fact that they weren't even really friends – more like rivals who shared a small amount of begrudging respect for one another.

'The rumour makes reference to an outward source – or outside help,' Sirius said factually. 'If that's true than she may have sought council from whoever she could.' He scoffed. 'My mother, a woman who surrounds herself with only the best. Whoever or whatever helped her, she wouldn't have given them up.'

Marlene nodded along, trying to recall all the finer details or what she'd heard all those years ago.

'There was a woman my mother used to know. They were close, I think.'

'You think?'

'I only met her the one time. But she was talked about often and my mother even made us call her "Aunt".'

They'd reached the sixth-floor staircase. Marlene quickly ascended, making sure to jump over the third step that would have her stuck there for the rest of the night. She heard Sirius follow her. When they were once again walking side by side, wands lit and pointed before them, Sirius continued.

'My uncle told me recently that my mother – in her desperation – turned to whoever, whatever she needed to in order to fulfil her duty as a pureblood.'

They were close now. They went up another staircase and Marlene could now make out the painting of Barnabas the Barmy and his blundering band of trolls he was trying to teach ballet to.

'My mother might have asked this woman for help,' Sirius continued, not paying attention to where they were going. 'The problem is, I don't know anything about her.'

'And whoever it is you're going to talk to, will be able to tell you?'

'Here's to hoping,' Sirius said as they came to a stop. He looked around and took in the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. 'McKinnon, what the hell are we doing here?'

Instead of getting offended at the look he was now giving her, Marlene took hold of Sirius' shoulders and guided him to stand before the stretch of bare wall that stood opposite the painting.

'I always love it when I discover that I know something you're little group doesn't,' she murmured as she steered him. 'Now,' she said when she held him to a stop, ignoring his protests, 'all you have to do is walk back and forth before this wall three times and think about what you want.'

Sirius gave her a look that clearly told her that he thought she was utterly insane. After seeing the sincerity in her eyes, however, his dumbfounded expression softened until only confusion remained.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. 'Why are you helping with this? I thought you wanted a big, entertaining show out of all this.'

Marlene dropped her hands from his shoulders. 'Oh, I do. But I'm sure you'll provide me with that another time.' She gave a small, crooked smile as she turned away from him.

He watched her walk away from him, her blonde hair seeming to trail behind her like a mist.

'Don't forget, Black,' she called over her shoulder, 'she's still my favourite!'

Sirius only realised he was smiling after she'd left from sight. It held for a few moments before slowly slipping away as he turned to face the blank space of wall again.

He felt like a complete idiot, walking back and forth in a deserted corridor.

 _Leave it to McKinnon to convince me to do something completely stupid. She's probably hiding around a corner somewhere, pissing herself laughing no doubt._

A sound came from behind him, like metal clinking together. He turned just in time to see the last of the bolts wind into place in a small metal door, no taller than he was.

Looking behind him just to make sure she wasn't watching on for a final time, Sirius faced the door, reached out and turned the door handle. It opened with a single click, swinging forward and revealing nothing but darkness inside.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, fire flickered to life in the sconces that hung along the walls. The room was small, barely three metres in length and two metres wide. The floor was simple stone, like the corridor outside. There was nothing special about this room, nothing at all. Except for the thing that hung at the end of it.

'What am I doing here?' Phineas Nigellus looked around the room from inside his portrait frame. His eyes swivelled from the fires, to the ceiling and then finally, he spotted Sirius and he sneered. 'I should have known that _you_ would be behind something like this.' He tried walking out the edge of his frame but simply knocked against it's edge. 'What's? Why can't I get out? What have you done, boy?'

Normally, Sirius would have tried to make a sneering joke, an insulting quip on his family's behalf, and although several sprung to mind, he had no energy in actually going through with it. He just wanted to go to sleep.

'I needed to talk to you.'

'And so you decided to add "thief" to your ever growing list of offences you've so far committed whilst at this school?'

'I didn't steal your portrait, you stupid blot of oil.'

Phineas spluttered his indignation but Sirius ignored him.

'I need to ask you some questions.'

Phineas scoffed. 'Huh! First you steal and now you demand. If you had attended Hogwarts under my administration- '

'Yeah, yeah, I probably would've been hung by now,' Sirius mumbled quickly, waving a dismissive hand. 'Look, the faster I ask what I came here to ask, and the quicker you get about to answering them, the quicker I'll leave. Sound good?'

Phineas' nostrils were flaring, and despite Sirius' trying to appear calm he couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement fill him. Finally, he was going to get some answers.

Phineas glared down at him for a moment longer before allowing a hiss of breath to escape through his nostrils. 'Ask what you came here to ask,' he ground out.

Sirius chose not to be distracted by the fact that Phineas had somehow spun the situation around to make him, Sirius, feel like the accused. There was only one thing he was thinking about now.

'Who's Tatiana?'

At the sound of the name, Phineas' fury seemed to falter – his nostrils stopped flaring and his frown, which had been drawn in tight due to his sneer, turned contemplative.

'Tatiana,' he worked the name around his mouth. 'What's the family name?'

Sirius shrugged impatiently. 'I don't know, that's why I came to you.'

'Well, what else can you tell me about her?'

Again, Sirius could do nothing but shrug. 'She's a friend of my mothers.'

Phineas' sneer was back. 'You certainly are not making things easy for me, are you boy?'

'I need to know who she is.' Sirius was quickly losing patience.

'Why?'

'Have you heard of the name before or not?'

Phineas didn't say anything for a moment, just simply looked down at Sirius from within his frame.

 _Probably thinking what the hell I'm playing at._ Sirius almost let out a sigh of relief when the silence was broken.

'Well I don't know about this Tatiana to whom you are referring,' he started, 'but I have heard of the name before.' He paused for a second, looking about the room, remembering something. 'I _knew_ a Tatiana once,' he said quietly, speaking to himself. 'We might have gone to school together, or maybe I met her through family?' He seemed to blink free of his reminiscing, his face growing hard once more. 'What I _do_ remember was that she was a complete and utter bore. Not worth my time or my bloodline. She was the daughter of a potioneer … and _not_ a very reputable one at that – had some derelict little establishment down a back passage of Knockturn Alley, if I remember correctly.'

Sirius felt himself deflate. Phineas Nigellus lived over a hundred years ago. The Tatiana he remembers can't possibly be the same one he was forced to visit as a child. All this was for nothing. He was back to square one.

'Yes, we were better off without the lot of them,' Phineas hadn't stopped talking, oblivious to Sirius' lack of attention, 'no matter how noble the Fawley family once were. Their family was as much as a failure as their potions.'

 _Potions?_ A small, tiny spark had been made in the back of Sirius' mind. 'Do you know if the bloodline continued?'

'Oh, I'm certain that it did. I believe one of them fought their way out of the muck long enough to become Minister for Magic at one stage.' Phineas did not seem to find this fact impressive. 'But the line eventually met with the inevitable.' He narrowed his eyes dangerously down at Sirius. 'The weak ones are always weeded out and left to wilt eventually.'

If he only had a fraction more strength in him, Sirius would have refused to let that remark slide, but as it was, he was far too busy thinking about other things. 'Minister for magic,' he repeated quietly to himself. 'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure, boy!'

'Great.' He might not have received the information he'd hoped for but a well-known public figure was more likely to provide him with answers more so than an unknown daughter of a disgraced and talentless potioneer. He turned to leave.

'Wait, just a minute.'

Sirius supressed a groan as he turned back to face the painting on the wall. Phineas was looking at him suspiciously, one eyes brow raised in question.

'Why did you come here tonight? Why steal me just to ask me a string of pointless questions?' if possible, his eyes narrowed even more. 'What makes you so interested in the Fawley's?'

Sirius had had enough, he opened his mouth to spurt out one of those comments from before that would surely get him in even more hot water when Phineas decided he'd rather not wait.

'Has it anything to do with your _own_ family, I wonder?'

Sirius stopped dead. 'What are you talking about?'

Phineas' tight lipped, lopsided grin reeked of condescension. 'My, my, it would appear that the noble and most ancient family of Black has become a much more interesting one since I was an active member of it.'

Another spark went off in Sirius' head. 'You spied in on Lyra's detention?'

'Well, I wouldn't call it spying.' Phineas gave a pause. 'More like, observing what has become of my lineage.' He cocked an eyebrow. 'It proved most enlightening, indeed.'

Sirius growled up at the painting – an act to which Phineas Nigellus clearly, did not approve of, if his curled lip was any indication. 'This has nothing to do with her,' Sirius lied. He was talking to a painting, he didn't need to explain himself to it.

He turned to leave and this time had made it all the way to the door when Phineas just couldn't resist.

'What makes you think that I won't tell Dumbledore all about this little meeting?'

Sirius was grinning even before he turned around. 'Oh, I don't think I'll have to worry about that.' He looked around him. 'Interesting room this, whilst I was thinking about what I wanted from it, I made it very clear that privacy be top priority.' He looked into the eyes of his ancestor, enjoying the look of uncertainty there. 'As soon as I close this door behind me, you will return to your portrait in the Headmaster's office, and you will have no memory of this meeting ever taking place.'

He saw Phineas' features twist in rage and disbelief before turning around and pulling on the handle.

'Why you! You insolent little- '

But exactly what Sirius was he'd never know as he slammed the door firmly shut. He'd heard enough insults from family members to last him a lifetime. And he could care less what an out of date oil painting thought of him right now. He had much bigger concerns – like finding out all he could about Minister for Magic Fawley, and how exactly the Fawley's fit into the rumour about him and his sister.

* * *

 **Please tell me what you think, I'd love to know! I might not post any new chapters for a while. It's my birthday this week and I've got people staying with me, than I'm back home for a week the week after and then I have to find a new job, since I decided to quit where I'm at now without any solid leads of replacing it. So my life is a bit upside down at the moment, but I will try my hardest to post something as soon as possible.**

 **Thanks all you lovely people out there!**


	17. Chapter 16

**No, you're not dreaming, finally the next chapter is here! Safe to say that I've been a little preoccupied lately and I've been writing this chapter in little drips and drabs for weeks but I've finally decided that it's ready to be read. There was another scene I wanted to add but I guess you'll all just have to wait till next chapter.**

 **Thanks to everyone who follows/favourites and comments on this story, every time one of you do this, it adds another brick on my path down this road.**

 **Because last chapter didn't have an opening quote, I've added quite a long one for this one. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _And in that instant, in a single heartbeat, it all came crashing back – every argument, every curse they had ever yelled at each other in anger, in frustration, in desperation and fear, it drowned out everything around her, every thought in her head – and as her legs gave out and she crashed to her knees by his side, a wall of defiance slid between those crushing memories and him. She would not allow the bad to outweigh the good. She would not yield to it. She would not let him die in front of her._

* * *

'What do you mean, you can't remember?'

'I don't see any other way I could put that,' Lyra mumbled, grabbing another piece of toast from the plate resting on her lap. She chewed on it slowly as she watched Sirius pace back and forth, rubbing his forehead as if trying to ward off a headache.

It had still been dark when she'd woken. At the sight of the tall walls, ivory even in the gloom, panic flooded through her and she'd had to clamp her hands into fists so as to keep herself from ripping off the covers binding her to the bed and running from the room. As soon as she moved, a sharp ache prodded at her middle and she collapsed back into the pillows, gasping. It was different to the stabbing pain she'd come to associate with the wounds across her stomach and after carefully peeling back her shirt she could see why it had changed.

Her world went cold.

The skin around the wounds were no longer blotted with shades of purple and green. The black tendrils had not only receded but had vanished entirely. And the scars, that had been soaked in an angry shade of red ever since they were carved into her, that had never fully closed, let alone healed, had now seemingly healed, completely.

White flesh stretched the span of her stomach in three great stripes. They were wide enough that they were raised and starkly contrasted the rest of her skin but the red, the black, the curse was gone. The curse was gone.

This should have been cause for celebration, or some sort of exhausted relief, at least. But the panic from before flared higher like flames, licking at the lining in her stomach, against her rib cage, it scorched her throat and made her fingers pulse.

Her breathing became difficult as she tried to remember how she got there in the first place. The harder she tried, the shallower her breathing became.

This was how Professor Antone found her when the Hospital Wing doors creaked open.

Immediately sensing that something was amiss, Antone rushed to her side. He dropped into the seat next to her, his stern face creased with concern as he regarded her blind panic.

'Miss Black,' he said, his deep voice heard only by himself.

Lyra was too busy trying to recall the last fragments of her memory. It was Hogsmeade weekend, it was their anniversary, hers and Remus'. They'd agreed to meet in the forest, in the clearing they'd found the year before.

She'd got the first. She sat next to an old oak tree, deciding to wait for him. The air was so warm on her face, in the air, so filled with energy. She hadn't been able to resist feeling more of it.

Remus had found her, they kissed, they hugged, then they'd yelled, and she walked away. Or did _he_ walk away?

Her head throbbed form the effort. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to let the darkness consume her again. She just wanted some peace and quiet.

'Miss Black,' Antone tried again. He shifted in her seat and gently placed a hand over hers.

Slowly her head cleared. The throbbing subsided, the confusion, violently thrashing in her mind started to ease and clear – a break in the hurricane. She embraced the calm, the growing silence, she felt her muscles relax and let the darkness and silence rush in and claim her.

She'd woken much later, the sun streaming in from the high windows, making for a much calmer realisation.

The matron had exhausted herself trying to make sure Lyra was, indeed, fine. No matter how much Lyra tried to convince her that the only thing she was feeling was hungry, Madam Pomfrey still seemed unconvinced. She'd been deeply concerned after learning of Lyra's memory loss and even more confused over Lyra's attitude. It was as if she'd been expecting some sort of riot, not the unnerving calm she was receiving from the girl sitting patiently in the hospital bed.

Lyra merely blinked her compliance after Pomfrey ran test after test, and she answered every question thrown to her with perfect measure. She _was_ unnerving, even to herself.

When the interrogation was finally done, when Pomfrey could no longer think of any more spells to perform or tests to run, she gave a long sigh and Lyra saw the perfect opportunity to ask the question she'd been wanting to ask ever since she opened her eyes.

'May I be allowed to eat now?' She ignored Pomfrey's look of exasperation, silently asking how in the world could she be thinking about food when half her memories were clearly missing.

Lyra had felt faint and it had taken until her stomach gave a long, twisting, growl to figure out why.

She'd been eating ever since. When the first plate had been placed in front of her, it had half disappeared in a matter of minutes. Her ravenous appetite was gradually sated until she merely nibbled her way through what was left.

Sirius had been notified that she was awake and talking after her first plate of food had arrived. He'd come running into the Hospital Wing alone, apparently he hadn't bothered or thought to tell any of the others.

And now he paced in front of her, glaring at anything that creaked.

She wondered when he'd last got a good night's sleep. From the faint purple hue tinging under his eyes, she was guessing that it was a while ago. His skin seemed to be more pale than usual and his eyes were clouded over from exhaustion.

'When was the last time you got anything to eat?'

Sirius waved a dismissive hand, never stopping his steps. 'Bout the last time you did, I suppose,' he mumbled.

'And how long would that be?' Lyra couldn't believe that it had taken her that long to think about asking that particular question. But now that she'd thought of it, her panic began to bubble once again, like lava, slowly spilling from a volcano.

At her question, Sirius didn't even so much as flinch. He may as well be in a History of Magic class, only paying enough attention to the topic at hand to be able to answer questions with the most basic answers. 'Two days.'

Lyra balked. Two days? It had been two days since the morning in the forest? What could have possibly happened out there that could have made her lose consciousness for a whole two days? Her head started throbbing again and she tried, once more to sift through the memories she did still have of that day – her waking early, being one of the only people in the Great Hall at the time she went there for breakfast, she'd wondered if the food was always this good or if the House Elves' quality somehow grew less and less further into the day, if they'd ever allow that sort of thing. Then she'd gone for a walk around the grounds, stopping by Hagrid's Hut to see if she could play with his puppy, Fang, but both the puppy and it's owner were nowhere to be seen, so she'd gone ahead to the edge of the forest, to the spot where Remus and she had agreed to meet. Everything was so calm, so peaceful, so still, she couldn't resist. Then Remus had arrived. They'd talked, they'd kissed, and then there was shouting. Why would there be shouting? What were they shouting over? The throbbing in her head grew painful, the beating of a drum against her ear. The lava within her continued to flow, cascading down her throat, but it wasn't laced with panic anymore – it was a river of thick, red-hot anger.

Shoving the blankets down and ripping up her shirt, Lyra pointed to the strips of raised, pale flesh across her stomach. 'And this?'

Sirius stopped dead. His hands, that had been crossed firmly across his chest, dropped numbly to his sides as he finally looked at her. His eyes moved slowly from her face, down her arm before finally landing on her stomach. It was mere seconds before he turned away, meeting her eyes – grey met grey, one storm cell closing in on another.

'Professor Antone ––'

'For Merlin's sake, Sirius ––!'

'Oh come off it, Lyra! What the hell were we meant to ––'

'I can't believe you! How could you do this?!'

'I couldn't tell him not to! You were unconscious!'

'I had it under control!'

'For fuck's sake!' Sirius screamed so loud it echoed.

A boy in a bed four beds down jumped awake, looking around to see what had startled him. Upon seeing Sirius standing there, his face now full of angry colour, fists clenched and pumping, the boy looked towards the door to Pomfrey's office. It didn't take him long to realise that the matron was not about to come to calm things down, the boy quickly pretended to be asleep again.

Sirius was breathing heavily, as was Lyra – although her breaths were bookended by winces. The river of lava was fast becoming black and slow with cold. She leaned back into her pillows, never taking her eyes off Sirius, who leaned in at the same time, pushing his clenched fists onto the small table that had been placed over the bottom part of her bed.

He glared at her with an intensity she hadn't seen in a long time – but it had long since made her afraid . . . now it only made her wary.

'Do you know what pisses me off, though? What pisses me off is that you don't even deny how bad it was in the first place. Were you ever going to tell anyone? Or were we all going to find out about it at your funeral?'

Lyra rolled her eyes. 'I had it under control,' Lyra ground out through clenched teeth.

'Like hell you did! It took Antone all day and all night of researching to figure out what that curse was and how to cure it. The spell-work alone was ––'

'He performed magic on me?'

Sirius' throat bobbed.

'Merlin, Sirius, how could you be so stupid? Do you realise what could've happened?'

'I don't understand. Mr and Mrs Potter ––'

'Are people you trust. Professor Antone is someone neither of us know – and I doubt he's someone you like very much.'

Sirius ran a hand down his face and she knew she'd won. She could have stopped while she was ahead. She should have stopped. Maybe it was the medicine, maybe it was the fact that she'd just discovered that she'd spent the last two days here, helpless and her frustration was becoming harder to leash, but she was feeling all of a sudden reckless. And why shouldn't she? After all, if Sirius could be reckless on a daily basis and get away with it, have it encouraged even, why couldn't she from time to time – especially considering just _how_ reckless he had been.

'I know why you let it happen,' she said, willing her voice to be steady. The time for yelling had passed. 'But you must understand where I'm coming from. After what happened the last time –'

'That was years ago.' Thankfully, he'd taken her lead and kept his voice down. 'And James has forgiven you for it. He forgave you almost as soon as it'd happened.'

'Not the point, Sirius,' Lyra muttered, trying and failing to ignore that cold wave of guilt crashing over her.

It was times like these that she could have cursed whoever it was who coined the phrase 'time heals all wounds.' Time didn't heal everything. A simple, shallow cut perhaps – a slight between childhood rivals – that may heal, scabbing over before the ruined skin fell away. A deeper wound, however, being dealt a blow that you neither expected nor prepared for, a wound like that only festers, growing worse. Those who believed that time healed all wounds, had clearly never been cut that deep to begin with.

'Well then let me make a point.' Sirius strode around and took up the seat next to her bed. 'You need to stop doing this to yourself.'

It took all the self-control she still had left not to scoff.

'You need to take this to heart, Lyra. This,' he gestured to her now covered stomach, 'this was something you kept from me. I thought we'd talked about this. Things have changed – that's what you told me at the start of term. You're right, they have changed. You can't be like this anymore. You can't keep trying to ignore things, hoping that they'll go away.'

She knew she was scowling but she didn't care. _You can't, you can't, you can't._ _High words coming from a boy who can't go two days without landing himself in detention._ She'd suspected that he'd start a conversation like this sooner or later. It didn't make it any easier to hear though. _And he's always said that I was the worrier._

Spiteful retorts formed, one after the other, on the tip of Lyra's tongue, they itched to be free and she almost gave in. But she was so tired. They'd been back at school for just a few weeks and yet it felt as if it had been dragging on for months.

Leaning forwards, Lyra placed a hand on top of his.

'All I want is for things to go back to normal, that's all.' He was still frowning as she made a last-ditch effort at a smile. 'Please?'

She watched the lines around his forehead, hoping that they'd smooth out. But just as his brow started to move, the Hospital Wing doors banged open and a string of excited voices rushed through.

As soon as the doors had opened, Lyra had retracted her hands, watching the group out the corner of her eye as they all rushed over to her bed. Sirius sighed, dipping his head, his hair falling down around him like a shield. When he lifted his head again, he had plastered a mischievous grin to his mouth, the one he always wore. It almost reached his eyes.

Lyra didn't look away from him until she had no choice to be distracted by a pair of hands enveloping her own.

Marlene wasn't looking at her, though, she was looking flatly at Sirius instead. 'You're in my chair, Black.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, I must have missed the "property of Marlene McKinnon" inscription carved into the wood.'

'Well isn't it a good thing that I'm here to tell you in person?'

Lyra blocked out their banter – after years of listening to it, it wasn't that hard to ignore anymore. She was instantly bombarded by worried looks and hurried questions by the others.

'I'm fine . . . it's alright . . . I'm just a little tired still.' These answers, for the most part, seemed to be satisfactory. James turned to help Marlene goad Sirius into an argument, every now and then casting quick glances Lyra's way. _Some things never change_.

Lily was just telling her that Dorcas would be by shortly when another figure in the room caught Lyra's attention.

Remus was standing at the back of the group, saying nothing, his hands held loosely behind his back, worry shining in his pale eyes as he looked her over. She smiled over at him, all the while nodding along to Lily.

His expression still seemed unsure. _Are you really alright?_ He seemed to ask.

She inclined her head in a subtle nod. _Yes._

She could tell that he didn't fully believe her. Thankfully he relented and he walked the rest of the way over to her bed. They both knew they'd talk again, when it was just the two of them, and she didn't think it would be at all too pleasant.

She smiled more broadly as he sent her a look that told her that she was right, the glint in his eyes positively promising her own frustration. Maybe it's true. Some things never change.

XXXXXX

Rabastan Lestrange was furious, that much was clear. He'd been in a foul mood for the past two days and it didn't look like the storm clouds were going to clear any time soon. He stormed into the Common Room, a letter clutched tightly in his hand. He didn't even made it five meters into the room before yelling at a group of second years to get out of _his_ spot by the fireplace. The second years were quick to move. They all shot nervous glances at the only one who stayed where they sat in the chair across from the fireplace.

 _But then again, he didn't yell at me to move._

Lestrange sent Regulus a withering look as he came to stand beside the hearth, yet he didn't say anything. Regulus took this to mean that he was welcome to stay, or he'd be tolerated at least if he chose not to scurry off like the second years had.

He could tell that Lestrange wanted to say something, every now and then the corners of his mouth would twitch, or he'd shift his weight from one foot to the other, as if about to walk over and take a seat. After every one of these movements had passed, Lestrange would glance back at the letter.

After watching this for a minute or two, Regulus turned back to his potion's text book. _Whatever it is he wants to share, let him break the silence first, let him come to me._ Regulus knew very well that the first person to break the silence would lose this little battle of wills.

If Lestrange wasn't already in a dreadful mood, Regulus would have smirked upon hearing his sharp voice cut across the crackling fire.

'Merlin, Rosier's an incompetent bastard.'

 _Ah, victory taste's so sweet._ Regulus closed his book and raised an eyebrow at Lestrange who was still so engrossed in the letter that he could have been talking to himself, if he were that kind of person.

'Everything he touches turns to shit.'

 _And yet she's been in the hospital wing for the past two days._ Regulus didn't dare say this out loud. He hadn't dared mention anything about what had happened two days ago at all. The plan had failed, and he had no idea how he felt about it. Thankfully, no one had asked him either.

'Do we know what happened yet? Is he talking?' Regulus asked. If he didn't start saying something then people were going to be even more suspicious of him than they likely already were.

Lestrange leered into the fire. 'No. He says he doesn't remember. He says that the last thing he remembers is meeting Greyback at the agreed place.'

'And you don't believe him?'

'Of course I don't! Rosier's always been a talentless dolt, but his no idiot. He's obviously lying to protect himself. Although from the sounds of things, that might not be going to well for him either.' Lestrange loosed a callous, sneering grin at the thought of Rosier's punishment. Kicking himself from the wall, Lestrange looked at Regulus for the first time. 'He's decided to give it a rest for the time being, doesn't want to provoke things any further than they have been already, and he wants to look further into this whole mess.' He brandished the crumpled letter. 'But when the time comes, we're going to take action. And then you're up, Black,' he said, pointing directly at Regulus' chest. 'Then it'll be time to see if you're as smart as everyone says you are. Don't screw up.' With that, he strode across the Common Room and descended the stairs to the dormitories.

Regulus watched him go, only turning back when Lestrange was out of sight, his jaw clenched painfully tight. He didn't know whether to sing, shout or throw-up.

XXXXX

'From all accounts, Headmaster, apart from a little fatigue and the obvious issue of her memory loss, she is fine as far as I can tell.' Madame Pomfrey seemed not at all pleased at her own report. Perhaps she was hoping to have stumbled upon some sort of explanation for Miss Black's condition. Obviously, she was not a woman who sat idly by when there was a mystery to be solved.

 _An annoying trait by any standards._

She peered at Dumbledore, almost appearing that he would suddenly reveal the reasons for all this. Instead, the old wizard just looked contemplatively around the room, pausing for a moment to study his phoenix who had perched itself on a chair near the entrance to the circular office.

Perhaps sensing that Dumbledore was not going to make any ground-breaking revelations, Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat. 'I would like to keep her in the Hospital Wing for another night at least. But,' she hesitated, becoming nervous despite Dumbledore's attention still being diverted, 'I would like to suggest keeping her until we can find a way to recover her memories.'

Dumbledore seemed to consider this for a moment. His eyes held a heaviness, a concentration so intense as he looked to the creature by the door, that he might have been having an entirely separate, silent conversation with it as well as the one already taking place.

Antone would have liked to studied the interaction more but Dumbledore chose that moment to drag his eyes away from the bird and rested them instead upon Antone, himself.

'Is there any indication, Professor, that there may be a link between Miss Black's memory loss and the wounds you treated?'

At the mention of the wounds, Pomfrey shifted indignantly in her seat. They had all read Healer Potter's report. They had all seen the name of the person suspected of giving Miss Black those wounds – and imbedding that curse within them. But they had not said the name out loud, they had, in fact, skirted the issue almost entirely.

Antone ignored the woman sitting beside him as he addressed the Headmaster. 'It is possible, Headmaster, but I would have to look into the curse further, to see if there are any other cases of a similar nature to that of Miss Black's.'

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his bright blue eyes never wavering in their intensity. 'Very well, then I think it may be for the best if Miss Black is released tomorrow.'

Madame Pomfrey shifted again, this time, no doubt to protest, but at Dumbledore's raised hand, she stilled.

'If there is nothing physically wrong with Miss Black, and if she is up to resuming her normal routine then I do not see any excuse for her to remain in the Hospital Wing.' Dumbledore's eyes sparkled a bit, as his lips twitched upwards. 'Besides, I cannot foresee Miss Black remaining content in a hospital bed for too much longer. I'm sure there are those who are eagerly awaiting her return to school.'

They all knew who was talking about. Mr Black had hardly left his sister's side over the last two days. His presence was half-worrying, half-exasperating.

Antone had felt the suspicion rolling off Sirius Black. It was not something he needed to contend with . . . not now . . . not after all that almost gone so terribly wrong. No, the quicker Miss Black was released, the quicker he would once again be allowed to distance himself from the Black twin's once more.

He was only mildly aware that Pomfrey had inclined her head in agreement and that Dumbledore had dismissed them.

Antone rose without thinking, watching as Madame Pomfrey left, passing the phoenix without so much as acknowledging its existence. He'd only taken two steps to follow her before he paused, his mind finally catching up, reminding him of what he'd pre-planned.

'Is there anything else, Professor?'

Antone took a step towards the chair he'd just left. 'Yes Headmaster, in fact there is. It's about the nature of Miss Black's wound, sir. I don't believe that they were intended to cause as much pain as they eventually did.'

Dumbledore simply raised an eyebrow. 'Explain.'

'Well, sir, after much research I found the curse that the wound was infected with. The nature of the curse is designed to feed off magical energy. It is, in most cases, relatively harmless. It should be treated right away of course, but the amount of magic that one would need to expend for it to become critical would be a great deal. Also, if there is no magical energy to feed off, the wound can, in a sense, turn in on itself. It needs magic to fuel it.' He paused, making sure that Dumbledore was following, from the look he was receiving, Dumbledore was understanding him for the most part. 'In essence,' Antone said, in an effort to simplify things, for the both of them, 'the curse is designed in such a way that whenever someone uses magic, the wound will grow worse.'

'In her report, Mrs Potter stated that the wounds to Miss Black's stomach were quite severe, that they became worse when treatment was attempted to heal them,' Dumbledore recited, his words heavy with curiosity.

'Exactly, Headmaster,' Antone leant over the chair ever so slightly. 'At the time Miss Black was brought to the Potter house, she'd just been recently attacked, if the report and it's sources are to be believed and accurate of course. The curse hadn't had nearly enough time for the wounds to become as bad as they reportedly were. And then there was a relapse in her condition, not,' he paused to rifle through the notes he was carrying, 'two days later.'

Dumbledore, not about to break his contemplative calm, simply asked, 'And your conclusion?'

Antone blinked once, as if he hadn't been expecting to be called upon for anything but stating the facts. 'I – I suppose that the only way for the curse to take hold so quickly, without Miss Black performing any magic, herself, was that her magical energy was severely depleted somehow. Perhaps in the struggle Mr Black described?'

Silence fell thickly over the room as Dumbledore considered this, the tips of his long fingers pressed together in front of him. He stared at the top of his desk for a moment before nodding slowly.

'Thank you, Professor, for bringing this information to me, and for being so thorough in your investigations.'

Antone replied with a nod. He turned to leave but Dumbledore spoke again, forcing him to turn back and face the Headmaster once more.

'Tell me, if you will, Professor, how is Miss Black progressing in your class?'

Antone tried not to let his confusion show too much. 'Fine, Headmaster.'

'And there have been no issues in her . . .' Dumbledore paused, the tips of his fingers starting to tap together, 'performances?'

A memory flashed to the forefront of Antone's mind, of Miss Black's wand shaking slightly in her hand as she lifted it, pointing it unsteadily towards her blonde friend, of the bright, intense beam that had shot from the end of it but only for a moment before her friend clutched her hand in pain. Within a blink of an eye the memory had faded and Antone shook his head. 'No, sir, none.'

Dumbledore held his gaze for an uncomfortably long moment, his bright eyes glinting over the tops of his spectacles. The room seemed to grow a bit brighter as the Headmaster offered a smile. 'Very well, I was merely curious,' he said lightly. 'I must admit that I find Miss Black to be one of Hogwarts more interesting pupils, don't you?'

Antone gave a tight-lipped smile, not too sure how to respond. 'Quite sir.'

That seemed to be enough for Dumbledore as the man stood from his chair, his whole body singing of relaxation and comfort. 'Well, thank you again, Professor, and if there's anything more you wish to share with me than please don't hesitate to pop by.'

'Thank you, Headmaster,' Antone said, nodding his goodbye to the old man before turning and heading down the spiral staircase.

He kept his head down the whole way through the castle, only looking up when he found himself surrounded by owls of every variety and shape. He tempted one down from the highest rafters with a small treat and had it sit next to him as he extracted a small piece of plain parchment from his notes and a quill from inside his robes.

 _Your suspicions were right. Dumbledore suspects the truth._

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 **Please tell me what you think and I hope you liked it!**


	18. Chapter 17

**So this chapter feels like a bit of a filler chapter, and maybe it is, but I'll leave that up to you guys to decide.**

 **Thank you again to everyone who continues to follow/favourite and review this story, it makes me so happy.**

 **And just to address the review from the Guest who goes by the name Rich Tea Biscuit from last chapter – I never thought about the curse being used on a Metamorphmagus before but yes, you're right, it would probably be fateful for them if they chose to conceal their appearance constantly because they would be using their magic all the time (a little clue about why it affected Lyra so much). Thanks for your insight!**

 **I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!**

* * *

Lyra had wanted things to return to normal and, thankfully, that's what happened . . . or so it seemed. And even though Sirius and the others would disappear from time to time and even though Sirius was still somewhat . . . snippy and distant, she found that those things were easy enough to ignore. She'd had enough of reading too far into things – that was Sirius' speciality, James' speciality, and they did it well enough for her not to bother with it.

Madam Pomfrey released her after another night of observation. When she stepped out into the corridors beyond the Hospital Wing a coating of brisk air wrapped immediately around every inch of exposed skin. The howling winds rushing past the windows reminded her just how far along into the term they really were. It was mid-October already and the most she'd managed to do was spend a handful of days in the Hospital Wing and get in just as many fights with her closest sibling, and – if the flashes of memory she'd been able to recall over the last two days were to be believed – there was also an unresolved fight with one Remus Lupin that needed to be cleared up.

Her memories still hadn't come back to her. She kept managing to remember up to the same point before darkness took over, washing through her memories like dye in a clear pool of still water. And with every blink of her eyes she was haunted by the last thing she could remember . . . Remus' back as he walked away from her, leaving her alone in the clearing of the Forbidden Forrest.

Part of her was fighting wildly, willing her to run and find him, to demand to know what they'd fought about, why he left her, what she'd done. But the part that wanted to run to him was being held back by the part that was screaming for things to go back to normal.

So she did just that, she went to classes – paying as much attention as she could whilst avoiding the glances of her brother, of Remus, of Lily and the others. The only person who seemed to be acting normally was Marlene, which, considering that that just meant a constant stream of sarcastic observations and the occasional bickering match with Sirius, it didn't do much to set her any more at ease. But she tried anyway.

And so she found herself walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast with Lily the Saturday after her release. She'd been spending more and more time with the Head Girl and although curiosity flared every so often as to why, Lyra stifled it with trying to get to know Lily more. Thankfully, as Lily did most of the talking, this was a relatively easy thing to do.

They entered the Hall and Lily immediately spotted the Marauders sitting midway down Gryffindor table. Lyra noticed the way her smile grew a little more when the red head spotted a certain bespectacled Head Boy. She was tempted to allow herself a smile as well if not for the fact that Lily's smile quickly became a tentative frown.

James, Remus and Peter were howling with laughter. The latter was clutching his stomach as if he was in pain, not enough to stop him, however. Remus was silently shaking, squeezing his eyes shut with his fingers and Lyra knew that he was trying to stifle tears that were threatening to leak out. This sight alone had laughter of her own bubbling up Lyra's throat. James was the loudest by far. Every time he looked at Sirius it grew louder, he slammed his open hand down onto the table, making the goblets and dishes rattle.

Sirius sat in amongst it all, glaring across at each and every one of them, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes had turned dark from brooding.

Lyra looked back to Lily, but she wasn't there any more – she was already nearing the group and about to sit down next to a still shaking Remus.

 _Oh crap._ Lyra hurried towards them. If the others were ganging up on Sirius it wouldn't take much for the moods to turn.

She took a seat next to James just as Lily was asking what was so funny.

James managed to stop laughing long enough to compose himself, adopting the air of someone who was about to make an important announcement.

'While the rest of you were sleeping soundly in your beds this morning, we were having quite the adventure.'

The others snickered while Sirius just sunk further into his chair, mumbling under his breath.

Lyra raised an eyebrow at the four of them as she scooped some scrambled eggs onto her plate.

'And what type of adventure are we talking about?' Lily asked, her eyes narrowed, focused solely on James.

'Ah, Lily pad, it was an adventure of the most enthralling kind!'

Lily bristled at the nickname but ignored it as James continued, throwing an arm out, summoning the memories of this great adventure back to him in some sort of grand gesture. Lyra had to bite the inside of her lip to keep her smile in check.

'It started in the wee hours of the morning when I awoke feeling strangely parched. Upon discovering that the pitcher in our dormitory was empty I ventured downstairs to the Common Room where I knew my thirst would be quenched. But a pitcher of water was not the only thing I found when I descended those last few steps.'

His eyes, which had been firmly set off into the distance, slid slowly, so slowly to Sirius whose scowl was positively rumbling. Remus and Peter sniggered – even Lily was obviously trying to hold in a grin.

'For there was our very own . . . one Mister Sirius Black gazing out the alcove window. Well, naturally I found this rather odd so I decided to approach and inquire as to why he'd decided to conduct a little 5am star gazing. But as soon as he saw me, he started harping on about . . .' James paused for dramatic effect, the silence was filled by the mounting sniggers from Remus and Peter and the desperate, pleading look Sirius was throwing him, obviously trying to convince James not to say whatever it was he was about to reveal. But there was no stopping James mid-story and he burst out laughing as he said, 'Clementine Hornby!'

At the name, Peter and Remus couldn't hold back any longer and they erupted in laughter again. Sirius's head dropped into his hands with a moan. Lily and Lyra looked at one another, eyebrows raised in confusion. Both were now grinning madly though, whatever the end of this story was, it was sure to crack their resolve.

James, sensing the girl's confusion, continued. 'It seems that our friend here helped himself to some chocolates that just so happened to be sitting on the study table – it seems that one of us,' he gave Sirius a pointed look, 'had forgotten about the previous night. She'd practically tried to feed them to you herself!'

Now it was Lyra's turn to groan. She looked to her brother with a look she hoped would say something like _How stupid could you possibly be?_

Sirius seemed to receive the message loud and clear. He scowled at her before turning on James. 'Okay, okay,' he tried to make his voice heard over the roars of laughter. 'I was very tired when I went down to the Common Room – I was half asleep! I saw food and didn't even think about it!'

Lily was laughing now as well. She managed to compose herself just long enough to say, 'Well you seem alright now. How did you manage that?'

'We had to take him to Slughorn!' James said between fits of hilarity.

'We?'

James turned wide eyes to Lyra. 'Well, yeah! A love-drugged Sirius was too good to pass up, I had to wake the others!' He said it as if it was the most obvious response in the world upon discovering one of your best friends being drugged with a love potion.

Lyra bit down on a smile, at least now she had an explanation for the giddy feeling she'd woken up with.

'Well, it's over now isn't it.' Sirius, trying to calm everyone down, only received guffaws from the boys, Lily was too busy trying to laugh while not spitting out the mouthful of juice she'd just taken.

Lyra just looked at Sirius again.

 _I thought I told you to be careful._

Sirius looked down right murderous.

After a few minutes the laughter started to die down. Occasionally one of them wouldn't be able to stop a burst of giggles escape as they imagined what could have only been a rather eventful trip down to Professor Slughorn's office. Sirius simply picked at his food, muttering under his breath about the value of friends these days having rapidly declined.

'Anyways, Lily,' James said once he had enough oxygen to talk normally. 'Slughorn mentioned something about his Slug Club dinner. You going?'

Any remaining dregs of laughter slid from Lily's face. 'Why? He didn't invite you, did he?'

James raised his eyebrows. 'Why yes, yes he did.' He puffed his chest out a bit. 'It seems like my importance has finally been recognised.'

'Or he just wants to use you as a case study in his lesson on how to identify morons,' Sirius grumbled. This caused a ripple of giggles to break out amongst the group. Sirius looked mildly more pleased that everyone was laughing with him now instead of at him.

James just guffawed sarcastically but ignored him, looking expectantly at Lily, who stumbled for a moment.

'Uh. Well I was ––'

Whatever she was about to say was washed away by the sound of wings and hooting coming from above. They all looked up only long enough to see the multitude of owls now flapping down to the house tables.

Lily's shoulders visibly relaxed when a letter dropped in front of her. Without looking at James, she snatched it up and ripped it open. At the same moment, a letter dropped next to Lyra's goblet. She frowned slightly until she opened it and saw the handwriting.

 _Meet me?_

 _Tonight 10pm . . . maybe we'll finally learn how to do ballet?_

Lyra snuck a glance across the table to Remus, he seemed to be engrossed in that day's edition of the Daily Prophet, but she didn't miss the way his lips twitched up when she looked at him. Thankfully, next to him, Sirius was still picking at his food and hadn't looked at anyone.

Lyra folded the note and slid her hands from the table. When she was sure they were hidden she allowed her hands to grow warm until they became hot enough to ignite the piece of parchment. It burnt quickly, without making the smallest trace of smoke or ash, until her hands were completely empty. She didn't know why she burnt things like this, she supposed she just needed the practice and knew that Remus wouldn't mind. That and the fact that if Sirius ever stumbled upon them, they'd most likely be ripped to shreds . . . and she wasn't talking about the notes.

'Hagrid's invited me to some tea.'

Lyra looked up just as James opened his mouth, no doubt about to accept the invitation he could sense coming, but Lily cut him off.

'Lyra, would you like to join me?'

'Uh – sure.' Lyra tried to ignore the disappointed look on James' face as she and Lily stood.

As they walked away from the group James called out after them, 'That's fine, we've got Quidditch practice anyways!'

Lily just shook her head, a small smile adorning her face. They were just about to enter the Entrance Hall when they spotted the blonde head of Clementine Hornby walking towards them. She was looking rather irate as she snapped to her friend and fellow sixth year, Penelope Shutter. Neither Lily nor Lyra could help but giggle a bit as she passed them . . . It was nothing compared to the echoing laughter they heard a moment later, when the boys spotted her.

Lily and Lyra walked down to Hagrid's in silence. Every now and then someone would call out a hello to Lily as they passed. Lily would answer hello back, always smiling. Lyra tried not to notice whenever their eyes slid to her. Some of them looked like they were going to acknowledge her as well, but they seemed to think better of it, something that she was overall very thankful for. Lily either didn't notice this or didn't care as they continued down the lawn to the hut that stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forrest.

Lyra really wanted to ask Lily exactly what was going on between her and James. They seemed to get along really well at times, and then something would just snap down over Lily and it was like they were all in fifth year again. It looked like an exhausting back-and-forth routine, surely it would just be easier for Lily to pick: to be James' friend, or not to be. A question surely everyone in the castle would like to know the answer of. Considering that the castle was still standing and had yet to be reduced to rubble as a result of one of their infamous fights, it seemed that everyone was assuming that maybe, just maybe, being forced to work together as Head Boy and Girl would finally do the trick.

Lily knocked on Hagrid's door when they arrived, they were immediately met with high-pitched barks coming from the other side – a sound that made Lyra smile instantly. A second later the door swung open, revealing Hagrid in all his monstrous height and hair. His beady black eyes crinkled in a smile as he beheld the two girls.

'Well 'ello Lyra. Wasn't expectin' you,' he said, ushering the girls inside.

Lyra always enjoyed spending time with Hagrid. She found him calming somehow, and there was always something new and wholly different in his hut whenever she visited. Last time she'd visited he'd introduced her to his new Boarhound puppy, Fang, who was now bounding towards her. For a moment, Lyra thought he'd skid right past her but he reared up at the last possible second and started to jump on his hind legs around her feet. She bent down and scooped him up, twisting her face away from his lapping tongue.

'I asked Lyra if she'd like to join me,' Lily told Hagrid as she took a seat. 'I hope that's alright?'

'O' course it is!' Hagrid boomed loudly. Too loudly.

Lyra looked at him and watched as he unhooked the kettle from it's place over the fire. Still watching him, Lyra took the seat next to Lily around the round dining table. Hagrid had already laid out some tea cups for himself and Lily, but as he moved to the cabinet to pull out another cup, Lyra could have sworn that she heard a sniff. A quick glance to Lily told her that she had noticed it too.

Fang yelped for Lyra's attention and she had no choice but to turn back to the puppy lest he squirmed right out of her arms straight onto the table. She was just about to tell the little thing to calm down when a loud tinkling crash made her jump.

Hagrid had dropped the third tea cup, it slid across the table, rolling over and over, heading straight for the edge. Thankfully, Lyra managed to get a hand free out from under Fang and grabbed the cup before it had a chance to slide right off the table and shatter on the floor.

'Hagrid!' Lily blurted. 'What's wrong?'

Hagrid fumbled after the cup for a moment before realising that it was now being held firmly by Lyra, who only frowned up at him. He set the kettle on the table before untying the half apron from around his waist.

'It's nothin'. Nothin',' he muttered, turning away from them. Another sniff sounded.

'If this is about what Renata Skeeter was saying the other day ––'

Lily looked aghast. 'Renata Skeeter? That idiot girl from Ravenclaw?' she asked.

Lyra gave her a look and a little shrug as if to say _who else?_

'What did she – oh.' Lily's face darkened as she remembered the horrible things they'd caught Renata saying the other day in the girl's bathroom. The next day, her not-so-secret opinions had spread throughout the school. 'Now, Hagrid you listen to me,' Lily said, watching Hagrid like a hawk as he took a seat across from them.

Lyra couldn't help but give Fang a pointed look. _This is sure to be good, make sure you listen too._ Fang barked happily and wagged his tail.

Lily waited until Hagrid had poured them all tea before she started. 'Hagrid, how many students say hello to you when you see them?' She didn't wait for an answer before continuing. 'How many students do you know by name? Or who come to you when they need someone to talk to?'

Lyra could see where she was going with this and by the way Hagrid's shoulders relaxed, he was starting to understand as well.

'Just because you don't have the title of Professor, doesn't mean you're not important. Just because you don't have a classroom, doesn't mean you don't teach.'

Hagrid's eyes were positively brimming with unshed tears.

'There's no Hogwarts without you, Hagrid.'

Lyra looked back to the puppy in her arms. _Okay, that might have been a bit much._ Fang nuzzled her palm in apparent agreement. She made sure to smile convincingly when Hagrid looked to her for confirmation, however.

Hagrid gave an odd sort of grunting huff. Lyra assumed that he was trying his best to regain his composure before he actually started to burst out crying. With one last sniff, he settled himself further into his enormous chair.

'Well enough about tha',' he said, waving a hand the size of a garbage bin lid. Lyra tried not to flinch out of its way. 'An' how're you two doin'? I heard about yer stay in the Hospital, Lyra. Nasty stuff tha'.'

Lyra opened her mouth but she didn't know what to say. The beauty about coming to Hagrid's was that he did most of the talking, whether about his animals, or the forest or things he'd caught Sirius and James doing about the castle. She'd never really felt a pressing need to contribute, and she especially wasn't used to being called on to comment about things of such a personal, and in her opinion, embarrassing, nature.

Thankfully she'd come with Lily this time.

'She's fine, Hagrid,' Lily said in a rather matter-of-fact tone although with the sideways glance she threw at Lyra, Lyra couldn't help but wonder if she was trying to convince herself of that as well as Hagrid. 'She's just a little tired still, that's all.' She turned to Lyra. 'Isn't that right?'

Lyra could only nod. Truth be told she was feeling better than she had in months. She was no longer in constant pain, her nightmares had calmed down and she wasn't hungry all the time. But sometimes it was just easier to nod along. So she was _apparently_ still a little tired from the whole ordeal, she could live with that.

Hagrid didn't look entirely convinced as he looked from Lily to Lyra. 'Hm. The forest ain't the best place to get stuck in, le' me tell yer. The centaurs have been a might restless these las' few days. Keep spoutin' on about dark ripples between moons and planets an' all sorts.'

'Centaurs?' Lily was almost jumping out of her chair. 'You talk to them? What are they like?'

Hagrid's eyes positively lit up at someone else's enthusiasm and launched into a passionate speech about the centaur clan that called the Forbidden Forest their home. Lily listened with rapt attention but Lyra's hand, that had been busying itself with scratching Fang's small head, had stilled.

Something about Hagrid's words made her pause. Ripples? Surely it was just some nonsensical ramblings from the centaurs. They were always spurting on about the shifts in moon patterns and making outrageous prophecies. Not that Lyra believed in prophecies . . . to be honest, she found astronomy to be a bit of a stretch. But that word . . . ripple. It perfectly described what she experienced on a daily basis. Her world was composed of ripples . . . She'd felt them so strongly within the forest that day, in the morning, before Remus had arrived.

Had the centaurs felt her presence? Had they known that she was in danger? Could they possibly know what had happened?

Lyra shook her head. She was being outrageous. She'd already come to her own conclusion about what had happened. The wounds to her stomach had been more severe than she'd thought. She thought that she was doing alright keeping it under control. Turns out she'd been wrong and it all became too much. There was nothing more to it than that. The centaurs may have come across her but they wouldn't have done anything more than scoff at the stupidity and arrogance of wizards before trotting off.

But try as she might, she couldn't unhook her attention from that word . . . ripples.

XXXXXX

Sirius slammed the book shut, not noticing or caring about the group of third years sitting at the next table who all jumped in unison. It was useless, absolutely useless. He'd looked in every book about the magical government in Britain that he could find and there was frustratingly little about Minister for Magic Fawley.

He'd holed himself here, in the Library, right after a gruelling Quidditch practice. There was less than a month till the first game. The schedule had already been drawn and it was now no secret that the first match was set to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin. – the two finalists from last term's season. The Slytherin's were already smirking about victory around the castle. In retaliation, the Gryffindor's had been practicing twice as hard already.

And so, the Library was the last place he really wanted to go as he padded off the Quidditch pitch, mud splattered up his arms, his muscles aching from swinging his beater's bat all morning. But, even with everything that had happened over the past few days, the name Fawley kept clanging through his memory. He couldn't keep putting it off. And though he'd received more than a few odd looks as he passed the threshold of the Library – a place he obviously didn't frequent often – he found a table in the back corner, hidden behind book shelves and started scouring all the books he could find that might have any link to the last name Fawley.

The only notable piece of information that Sirius could find after spending hours in the Library rifling through book after book was a small entry in _Dark Wizards of the Early Twentieth Century and Their Repercussions_ _by Agnus Spelding_. Sirius' heart had leapt at seeing Hector Fawley's name but then, glancing down and seeing the incredibly small amount of information underneath, his frustration doubled.

 _ **Hector Fawley**_ _  
_ _ **1925 - 1939**_ _  
_ _Undoubtedly voted in because of his marked difference to McLaird, the ebullient and flamboyant Fawley did not take sufficiently seriously the threat presented to the world wizarding community by Gellert Grindelwald. He paid with his job._

So, he'd been an idiot, other than that there was nothing . . . nothing about his wider family, what became of him after his political career, no clues at all about what possible ties the Fawley family could have with his own.

Sirius hit the book again with a closed fist, absolutely useless.

'Woah, calm down there!' Came James' voice as he and Peter fell into the empty chairs around Sirius' table – a table that was strewn with books and old copies of newspapers.

James took in the mess and raised an eyebrow. 'Doing a little light reading, are we? Trying to impress one of the fine birds from the ever-well-read house of Ravenclaw?'

Sirius scowled at him. 'I do read every now and then, y'know, Prongs.'

Both James and Peter snorted.

'Yeah, only if it's glossy and has pictures of half-naked chicks in it,' James scoffed.

Sirius opened his mouth to defend himself but then flashes of said magazines popped into his mind and he couldn't help but grin, which only made James' own grin grow.

'Anyway . . .' Peter piped up, looking hesitantly between the pair, 'what exactly are you doing?' He leant forward and picked up one of the old newspapers.

'Homework,' Sirius mumbled, giving the books on the table a murderous look.

'This got anything to do with what you and Phineas Nigellus talked about?'

Sirius could almost see James' ears prick up. Sirius had told them all about what had happened. It had piqued all their interest's immensely, but James had almost become just as obsessed as Sirius was. Almost. Of course, James wasn't pursuing this because of some seemingly meaningless rumour – but James had always been a keen investigator and if there was one thing he couldn't do, it was to give up on a mystery – and Sirius had presented him a pretty intriguing one.

'Yes, but I can't find anything useful.' Sirius scowled. 'I think I've hit another wall.'

'Well, if you ask me – and I realise you didn't but just play along – then I think you need a break.' James raised his hands in mock surrender as Sirius turned his scowl to him.

Sirius relented after a moment. He knew James was only trying to help, as always . . . and as always, he was right. Sirius needed a break – the headache pulsing through his temples had been trying to tell him that for the last twenty minutes.

'Besides,' James said, his grin turning purely serpentine, 'we've got other things to occupy our time – or have you forgot what happens two nights from now?'

It took a moment for the realisation to hit him. Sirius had, indeed, forgotten. But now that he'd remembered that the full moon was approaching he couldn't help the excitement now filling his chest. The night of the full moon was always the best way to escape, to forget, to simply being Padfoot . . . Even the thought of fleas couldn't dampen his spirits.

He shared a conspiratorial smirk with the others before, 'Where is Remus?'

James waved an uninterested hand. 'Said he had a prefect meeting.'

Peter and Sirius shared a look. 'If he was in a prefect meeting, wouldn't you be there with him, then?' Peter said slowly.

'Well, I can't be expected to keep track of them all the time, can I?'

Peter shook his head, flabbergasted, no doubt, but Sirius saw through the lie. He definitely wasn't about to pull James up on it though. Besides, he wasn't too sure he really wanted the truth.

'Besides, we've got bigger things to discuss.'

James' growling voice was enough to tear Sirius' eyes away from the open book he'd half-heartedly started to study again. He followed James' narrowed eyes to a few bookshelves down just in time to see a Ravenclaw boy turn the corner.

'Isn't that that Aubrey bloke? The one McKinnon had a date with the other day?' Sirius tried not to scoff at the word date.

James made a rumbling noise at the back of his throat - a sound he only made when he was truly pissed off. 'He wishes. She got an hour in and realised what a complete bore he is and ditched him.'

'Well, I did warn her.' He didn't know why he just said that as it was Aubrey he'd warned, he made no move to correct his statement however.

'Hm. Well it seems that now the prick's going around bragging about how successful it was . . . He's got an awfully big head on him.'

Without saying anything else James and Sirius' eyes met, each reflecting the other's sinister smile.

'What?' Peter asked, shuffling forward in his chair, his voice brimming with giddy anticipation.

'What d'you say, Padfoot? Up for a bit of a break?'

XXXXXXX

Lily and Lyra spent the next hour at Hagrid's. Hagrid told Lily everything he knew about the Centaurs, his mood growing brighter and brighter after every passing sentence. Lyra listened to them, peacefully playing with Fang and sipping her tea. With every swell of the sound of students outside, of the distant calls from the Quidditch Pitch, Lyra could feel herself becoming almost hazy with contentment . . . a feeling that, unfortunately, didn't last.

Lily and Lyra were halfway to the Common Room, Lyra's mind occupied with what Remus had planned for this evening, when raised voices got their attention. Intrigued, they followed them . . . well, Lily was intrigued and took the first hurried steps towards the voices. Lyra was more than wary and the words _back to normal, back to normal_ echoed like a mantra to her footsteps, but she followed anyway. Hopefully this was nothing more than a couple of boys trying to impress their friends.

Of course, it wasn't.

Lily and Lyra halted to a stop when they rounded the corridor and were met with the sight of Dorcas and Marlene facing each other, ten paces between them, wands pointed at the others chests.

'What in Merlin's beard is going on here!?'

'I have absolutely no idea,' Marlene said to Lily without taking her eyes off Dorcas, or her wand. 'Why don't you ask her?' She jerked her chin towards Dorcas who scoffed.

'Oh please, Marlene, stop playing the fool. There's no one here for you to impress!'

'What the hell are you on about?'

Lyra could only stare. She'd never seen the two girls like this before. Whilst it's true that they hadn't been altogether friendly for the last few weeks, this was taking things to a whole new level. Dorcas looked downright murderous. Marlene's sharp eyes were trained on the girl, her feet were slightly spread, obviously readying herself for a hex to be thrown her way at any moment. Other than that, the blonde simply looked confused . . . pissed off, yes, but confused all the same.

Lily looked between the two girls and then at Lyra, her eyes reflecting Lyra's own worry and bewilderment.

What _was_ going on?


	19. IMPORTANT PLEASE READ!

**PLEASE READ!**

 **So it's been almost a year since I posted the first chapter, originally meant as a one shot. Since then I've been making it up as I go and I've realised now, looking back, that I've gone off on one too many tangents to be able to backtrack properly and address them all. In order to fix this I'M COMPLETELY RESTARTING THIS STORY UNDER A DIFFERENT NAME – THE BLADE ITSELF!**

 **The Blade Itself will have NEW MATERIAL and different events will be chopped and changed. I already feel like the plot is a lot clearer and I really do have EVERY INTENTION OF FINISHING THIS STORY.**

 **I hope that everyone who's favourited and followed this story will do the same with The Blade Itself and that there are still people out there engaged enough to leave a review for me.**

 **I'M SO SORRY! But I really do feel like I'm onto a winner with this new structure. I hope to hear from some of you soon!**

 **Thanks guys!**


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